


Battle-Scarred : Aftermath

by Darke15



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Afghanistan, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Brainwashing, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Flashbacks, Iraq, Night Terrors, PTSD!Reader, Past Torture, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sniper!Reader, Snipers, Soldier!Reader, Super Soldier Serum, The Avengers (2012) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 83,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6958552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darke15/pseuds/Darke15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything went bright. You blinked a few times and tried to get up, but your arms gave out under you. There was the thunder of helicopter blades over the top of you and ferocious yelling coming from both sides of you.</p><p>“Come on Lieutenant, let’s get you up,” Commander Weston’s voice came again, another blast to your left, you shielded yourself, “Get up girlie, it’s just a flesh wound, we gotta get outta here.” You tried getting up again only to find that your legs were pinned under heavy debris, squinting you realized what it was you were pinned under, a Military Humvee. A blast sent dust and shrapnel flying at you as you tried to free yourself from the wrecked vehicle.</p><p>“Come on, (Y/N), they’re getting closer ge—,” Weston was cut off by a barrage of bullets. You watched as he dropped to he knees, you screamed and out of the dust came a figure. The figure grabbed Weston’s head from behind and with a sharp movement, there was a snapping of bones and it was done.</p><p>You remembered it different every time, and every time there was a new detail. Every time you were one step closer to putting together the missing pieces, one step closer to solving the puzzle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Battle of New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lieutenant, I need you to rendezvous downtown! I repeat, rendezvous downtown!” Captain Roger’s voice came through your earpiece. You grunted in response and looked around, trying to get your bearings. You figured it out quickly and began to wind your way downtown.
> 
> Your body was sore and your were pretty sure some bones were broken, but you didn’t stop.

 

 

> "There are no ex-soldiers. Our title is earned, never given, and what's earned is yours forever."

——————————

** Invasion of New York  **

——————————

Another chariot buzzed over your head as you took a deep breath and began to exhale, you gently squeezed the trigger and the rifle kicked back into your shoulder.

The bullet hit its mark, the head of a Chitauri Invader. You pulled back the bolt with a snap, launching the casing from the rifle, then shoved the bolt forward with a sharp click.

“Another one down, Captain, locked, loaded and ready for another,” you spoke calmly into your headset as you eyed your next target. 

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Captain America’s voice rang through, sounding strained, “Keep ‘em off our backs.”

“You got it,” you said, taking in the city below you. 

A Chitauri chariot swooped over your head and you took no time in aiming and firing; the chariot exploded. Ducking out of the way of incoming debris, you felt heat waft over you, orange flames licked over the side of the building threatening to sink their teeth into you before they retreated. 

Looking down at the city below, you could see that you were more than outnumbered. 

The aliens filed out from the portal in the sky like ants, you let out a small growl, “Agent Barton, what’s your status?”

“I’m good,” he called from a building across from you. You glanced over at him as he loosed another arrow, he reached back for another only to find his quiver empty. Behind him, a Chitauri crept up from the fire escape.

“Barton, watch your six!” You yelled, whipping around with your rifle. The archer turned quickly, attempting hand to hand combat with the creature before finding himself overpowered. 

“A little help here, (F/N).”

“A little to the left,” you growled. Clint barely had time to move before the bullet found its mark and the creature crumpled to the ground. 

“Cutting it close,” Barton said, rubbing the back of his head, making sure you didn’t accidentally hit him.

“You’re welcome,” you answered, unfazed, “Get to ground level and get some ammo.”

Clint looked over at you and nodded before climbing easily off the building. You looked to the skies again and watched as Stark shot past you with two Chitauri on his tail. You locked and loaded before taking two brief shots and watching the two aliens plummet to the ground, “Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff, you have more coming your way.” 

You watched as the Red-Head and Living Legend did a maneuver together, Rogers launching her into the air from his shield and she commandeered a chariot. She went shooting off past you quickly and you made sure her route was clear, taking a few shots to the side of her here and there. 

An explosion from across the block brought your attention back to your job as the building began to rock. You leaned over the ledge, trying to catch a glimpse of what had happened while trying to keep your balance. 

From out of the rubble, a long metallic Leviathan writhed its way around. Before it could go anywhere else, the God of Thunder came streaking across you peripheral, smashing into the thing with a thunderous yell and creating another fiery explosion. 

You steadied yourself against the shockwave, watching has Thor threw Mjolnir almost effortlessly into the Leviathan before it sank to the ground and he was off.

You watched him soar through the sky before you froze, your spine tingled slightly. Quickly whirling around, you came face to face with a Chitauri soldier.

It moved inhumanly fast, slashing downwards with its staff, but you were a touch faster, You brought your rifle up horizontally above your head, barely catching the weapon mid-swing. Bending your elbows and knees, you pushed back, easily creating separation between you and your opponent as he took a step backward. To keep him moving, you swung the rifle, by its barrel, towards the alien. It moved rapidly out of range of your swing and tried to fire its weapon. You dodged out of the way. 

When you landed, you brought your rifle up to your shoulder and fired. It clicked, an impatient groan left your lips, you were out of ammo.

The Chitauri fired, again and again, you dodged, rolling away from the blast. 

In a swift flick of your arm and wrist, you flung your rifle at him, catching him off guard and knocking his staff out of his hands. He gave out a low growl and you smirked.

“Come at me, bro,” you said, balling your hands into fists. The alien gave out a piercing shriek and thundered towards you. 

You attempted to dodge again, but this time you were a half second too slow and instead it tackled you. 

You had n idea you were standing so close to the edge of the building.

——————————

_Everything went bright._

_Blinking a few times, you tried to sit up, but you couldn’t. There was a thunder of helicopter blades over the top of you and ferocious yelling coming from all around. You winced and tried to get up again, there was a weight on your legs and you couldn’t move them. The brightness began to subside and your vision began to focus._

_There was sand, a lot of it. You blinked a few more times, trying to twist your head around to see, but before you could a large blast came from your right. You covered your head._

_“Gonzalez!” Came a gruff voice from behind you, “Watch your six!”_

_You knew that voice._

_“Johnson, get the gear. Walsh, cover me,” the voice continued, a trio of ‘yes sir’s’ came from behind and in front of you, “(L/N)! Get up!”_

_The voice got closer, you strained your neck to see who it was._

_“Commander?” You rasped a parched hiss, sand sticking to your sweat-drenched skin._

_“Come on, Lieutenant, let’s get you up,” Commander Weston’s voice came again, muffled by another blast to your left. “Get up Girlie, it’s just a flesh wound, we gotta get outa here.”_  

_You attempted to rise to your feet again, only to find your legs pinned under heavy debris. Squinting in the harsh sunlight, you realized what you were pinned under, a heavily armored, military Humvee._

_You looked pleadingly up to the Commander and realized just how much of a mess he was._

_Dark red blood poured from his nose and he had an obvious bullet wound to his arm, which hung limply to his side. His uniform was ripped and was covered in black blast stains, he was covered in dirt and grime, making his dark brown buzzcut a light grey._

_Another blast sent dust and shrapnel flying at you as you tried to free yourself from the wrecked vehicle._

_“Come on, (F/N),” he pleaded, a rough growl in the back of his throat, “they’re getting closer, we need to g—.”_

_Weston was cut off by a barrage of bullets, you watched helplessly as he dropped to his knees._

_“No!” You yelled, trying even harder to free yourself, but whatever you did, just made it worse._

_Commander Weston was still on his knees, he looked dazed and he chocolate brown eyes were starting to glaze over. The wind began to pick up, howling over your wails of defeat and swirling dust into your eyes._

_A dark figure walked towards you from the dust and came up behind Weston._

_The figure grabbed Weston’s head from behind and, with a sharp movement, there was a sniping of bones and it was done._

_Commander Weston fell face down towards you, landing beside your trapped body, his face towards you. His mouth hung slightly open and his eyes were wide._

_You let out a bloodcurdling scream._

_The figure disappeared._

_Everything went black._

_You need to get up, Lieutenant._

_Get up girlie, we gotta go._

_Now! Get up! Walk it off!_

_Get_

_Up_

——————————

Your eyes cracked open, taking every ounce of energy you had left, and you breathed deeply. 

There was no more dust and sun wasn’t beating down on you harshly.

There was still screaming all around you and things flying dangerously over your head, but you were no longer in the desert.

You weren’t pinned under the impossible weight of a Humvee, you were pinned under a dead Chitauri soldier.

You were back in New York. 

You blinked slowly, painfully as you got your bearings, you realized that you had fallen off the building where your sniper’s nest had been and had landed on the roof of a car parked on the street 

Groaning, you strained to push the Chitauri off of you and rolled off the car. Glass crunched under your boots as you hit the ground and steadied yourself against the car. You blinked a couple more times, as your hazy vision cleared up and you breathed in a few more breaths to calm your racing heart. Your hands were shaking as you breathed, shaking your head to get rid of the memories that had broken your concentration on the fight at hand.

“Lieutenant, I need you to rendezvous downtown!” Captain Roger’s muffled voice came through your earpiece, bringing you back to the present, “I repeat, rendezvous downtown!”

“Affirmative,” you said steadily, “I’m on my way.”

You were off like a shot, running against the sea of terrified people that were still filling the streets. All at once, adrenaline coursed through your veins and your concentration was restored.

Your body was already sore, and you were pretty sure that some bones were broken, but you didn’t stop, instead, working through the pain.

As you turned a corner, a Chitauri soldier blocked your path, you reached down to your sides, unholstering two pistols. Popping off a couple shots, you dispatched your enemy quickly and returned to your sprint.

A couple more blocks down and you saw Captain Rogers, surrounded by the invaders. With a quick huff, you leaped onto the hood of a car, over the head of an alien, and to Rogers’ side.

“What took you so long?” He joked as he flung his shield at a nearby Chitauri.

“I fell off the goddamn building,” you hissed, popping off a few more rounds, each finding their target.

“What was that?” He asked with a grunt, hitting another alien.

“Nothing, nothing,” you said quickly, hitting a Chitauri with the butt of your pistol.

You spun around to gun down another, but again your pistols simply clicked in response.

“Again?” You murmured with a roll of your eyes, chucking both pistols at the nearest enemy to stun him before you unsheathed a knife from your belt.

You held it in a reverse hold, the sharp edge away from you, then rapidly advanced the dazed alien and slashed upwards, slitting its throat. Blood sprayed in your face and over your clothes. You didn’t blink, instead grabbing its weapon and pushing it aside as you rejoined Captain Rogers. 

He was juggling between five different Chitauri and wasn't gaining any ground.

You looked at the new weapon in your hands and then to him before you aimed at the furthest alien from the Captain, just in case using the blaster went south.

Pulling the trigger, a blast of light left the weapon and easily hit your target, you smirked devilishly. Hardly looking, you aimed at the other Chitauri surrounding him and took them out.

“Nice aim,” he smiled, looking at you with gratitude before he smiles faltered as he took in the sight of you. Covered in blood, soot, and dirt you were a sight to behold. He frowned, “You okay?”

“Just peachy,” you replied with a small grin.

“There’s not much more we can do here,” Rogers said, taking one more look at you before he surveyed the streets.

Not many aliens were left standing and the ones that were still standing were easily being taken care of by the big green guy.

Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of light caught your attention.

You realized quickly what it was.

Sniper.

“Steve, look out!” You cried, pushing him out of the way with a rough shove. 

A ball of energy went hurtling from the building as you did, catching you square in the chest.

Your breath hitched, chest tightening so much you couldn’t breathe and your heart seemed to stutter then stall.

Your eyes fluttered and you stumbled, trying to maintain a standing position.

Feeling your energy waning, you lifted the Chitauri weapon, and, with a final push of adrenaline, fired in the direction the shot had come from before you hit the ground and everything went black.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!! You made it!
> 
> Lemme know what you thought! :D
> 
> ——————————
> 
> +Updates :  
> +4/24/2018 - Complete Rewrite


	2. Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You woke up in a white room, a rhythmic beeping came from one side of you. Your eyes fluttered open and you took in your surroundings. There was an IV drip sticking out of your arm, a brace wrapped around your ribs, and your other arm was bandaged up. 
> 
> "Good to see you’re awake,” came a deep, familiar voice from the edge of the room.
> 
> “Thank you, Director Fury. It’s good to see you too.”

> "I have stared death in the face, but he blinked first."

——————————

**One Week Later**

——————————

You woke up in a white room, a rhythmic beeping came from one side of you. Your eyes fluttered open and you took in your surroundings. There was an IV drip sticking out of your arm, a brace wrapped around your ribs, and your other arm was bandaged up. Your muscles tensed, as your eyes flitted around the room.

“Good to see you’re awake,” came a deep, familiar voice from the edge of the room.

“Thank you, Director Fury. It’s good to see you too.” you sighed, relaxing a bit. Suddenly your jaw clenched and you sat upright. Pain flooded through you, but you ignored it. “Sir? Did I get him? Did we win?”

Fury chuckled, coming closer to your bed and grabbing your good shoulder, gently forcing you to lay back down. “Yeah, we won. And you? You kicked alien trash.”

“But, did I get him, sir…the sniper?” you asked quickly, relieved that you had won.

“Look, (F/N),” he began, taking his hand off your shoulder and placing it behind his back, “I don’t know how the hell you did it, but you did. Found the sucker in the building, shot right between his eyes.” He looked at you with his one good eye and smirked. “You’re good girl, probably one of the best.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, smiling to yourself, but your smile faltered as the pain you had been holding off surged back into your mind. Your face contorted is agony and your good fist clenched into a ball. The heart rate monitor began to beep rapidly.

“Take it easy there soldier,” Fury said calmly, “Take a rest, you worked hard.” He walked away from your bedside and into the hospital corridor where he called for a nurse. A nurse briskly walked into the room and began administering painkillers and a sedative. “Get better, Lieutenant, we have a lot to talk about when you’re on your feet again.” Fury said from the door way, his back to you.

“I’m not a soldier anymore, sir,” you groaned. He turned to look at you again, shook his head, and then disappeared into the hallway. _How did I even get into this mess?_

You could already feel the painkillers working and slowly, so were the sedatives.

——————————

**Four Months Before**

——————————

You were on your back underneath a black, 1969 Pontiac Firebird, with a ratchet in hand. The car was up on a jack, but you had very little room to maneuver around the underbody. Finishing up you slid out from under the car and set down the ratchet, your dog tags jingled as you moved. You moved over to your work table and grabbed your impact wrench. Hastily, you moved to the left front tire and removed the five lug nuts in a smooth quick fashion. You hoisted the tire off of the wheelbase. Afterward, you grabbed the rotor and gave a swift tug, it didn’t budge. _Damn._

“Yo, (F/N), how much longer you gonna take?” came a voice from outside the garage.

“Not much longer Raf, just gotta get the brakes fixed,” you called, grabbed your ratchet and opening the bleeder before trying to spin the rotor again. _Must be the caliper._ You closed the bleeder.

“Hey, there’s a dude here wants ta talk to ya,” Raf’s voice came again.

“Tell ‘im to wait,” you shouted over the car. Taking out a pry bar you undid a nut on the backside, pried off the caliper, and gave the rotor another spin. Perfect. It spun like a charm. You took off the brake pads on either side of the rotor and looked in between them. A small rock was wedged in between. You let out a triumphant laugh.

“(F/N), he’s gettin’ a little antsy, really wants ta talk to ya,” Raf called.

“Then send him in here,” you huffed, taking out a pair of pliers and reaching for the rock. Behind you, a man in a long, black trench approached. “Somethin’ I can help you with?” You asked turning around, wiping your hands on a rag that hung out of your pocket, you looked at the man. His hands were behind his back and he stood tall. He was dressed in all black and looked relatively normal, except for the fact that he had an eyepatch going over his eye.

“Lieutenant (F/N) (L/N)?” he questioned. His voice was deep and had a sharp edge to it.

“Used to be,” You said, reaching over to your workbench and grabbing a few more tools. “I’m retired.”

“I’m told you can fix anything,” he said, ignoring you. You snorted a laugh, prying the rock out of the brakes.

“And who told you that?” You grabbed the two brake pads and put them back into place.

“A reliable source,” he answered. You looked up at him a squinted tentatively before shaking your head.

“You know, I know quite a few people that talk like you do,” you began, reaching for the caliper and held it in place, feeling around for your ratchet, “Usually, those kinds of people get me into trouble.” You gave the rotor another spin.

“I would never try to get you into trouble,” he stated as you grabbed the tire and lifted it back to the wheelbase.

“That’s what they all say,” you grunted, pushing the tire back into place. “And they usually don’t give me their names.” You grabbed the five lug nuts and put them into place before taking the impact wrench and tightening them into their holes.

“Nick Fury,” he said. Outstretching his hand to you. You wiped your hands again, eyeing him suspiciously with your (E/C) orbs, you knew that name from somewhere. You reached out your hand and gave him a firm shake.

“What do you want?” You asked. Walking over to the jack and lowering the car to the ground.

“I would like to give you a job opportunity.”

“What kind of job?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Perfect,” you growled, “I know a lot of shady people, like a ridiculous amount, but you? You take the cake, by far.”

“Look Lieutenant, I-,”

“Stop calling me that, I’m not a Lieutenant anymore.” you snarled.

“Ms. (L/N), I-.”

“Don’t call me that either,” you interrupted again, “Call me (F/N).”

“(F/N), I-,” he stopped, making sure you weren’t going to cut him off again. You smiled leaning against the car and motioned for him to continue. “I work for a government agency and I’d like you to come and work for me.”

“Let me stop you there Nick, I-,” you started.

“Director Fury,” he corrected.

“Director Fury,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ve worked for a ‘government agency’ before and it didn’t end well. You want me to come work for you? You gotta give me more than that.”

“I can’t give you much, not in a place like this,” he said turning away from you, looking around the shop. You shook your head and grabbed the keys to Firebird from your workbench.

“Then let’s go somewhere else, hop in.” You called over your shoulder as you tossed the keys to yourself.

You stepped into the car and put the keys in the ignition, watching as Fury walked around the car. He opened the door and took a seat next to you. As he sat, he flipped his trench coat up and you caught a glimpse of a pistol tucked behind his back. Eyeing him warily, you started the car. It turned over and rumbled with a low growl.

“Nice car,” Fury commented as you shifted into drive and pulled the car out of the garage.

“Thanks. It’s been in storage 20 years. The owner said if I could get it running again it was mine to keep.” you said pulling out onto the road and flooring it. Apparently, Fury wasn’t expecting you to do that. He flew backward in his seat and held on for dear life as you sped down the road, you let out a laugh. “You okay there, Director?”

“I’m fine,” he growled, glaring at you.

You sped down the street and turned off onto an old, dirt road. You went for a couple of miles in complete silence before bringing the car to a halt. You took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car, Fury followed suit.

“This place good enough for you?” you asked, pushing your (H/C) hair out of your face, he nodded. “Tell me more.”

“I am the head of an agency called SHIELD.”

“SHIELD?”

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. We’re an intelligence agency hell-bent on providing protection to the United States and the world.”

“What do you want with me?” You questioned.

“I’ve been told that you can fix anything, that true?” he evaded.

“Sure,” you shrugged, playing with the keys in one hand and with your dog tags in the other, leaning against the car.

“I want you to be my head mechanic on one of my Helicarriers.” He finally answered. You looked at him incredulously.

“You, what? A what? The fuck is a Helicarrier?” You spouted off.

“I want you to be my head mechanic, I’ve been told you’re the best there is.” he started leaning against the car next to you. “A Helicarrier is like an aircraft carrier, but it can go from the ocean to the sky.”

“An aircraft carrier, that can fly? That makes no sense. I-I don’t understand why you would want someone like me to work for you. It doesn’t make sense.” You hurriedly spoke, pushing yourself off the car away from him.

“You’re a war vet.” he replied simply, “I wanted to do something, from one soldier to another.” You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head.

“I get the feeling you’re doing this because of more than that.” You said, looking down at the ground and kicking a rock away from you.

“You’d be right.” he stated, looking away from you, “But, I would never make you do something that you don’t want to. I want you to be a mechanic first, we can discuss other options at a later time.” You looked at him and he turned to you, making eye contact. “I can pay you well, you’ll have quarters on the Carrier, but will be provided a house on the ground as well. We can give it a trial run, see how you like it, what do you say?” You maintained eye contact with him for what seemed like an eternity before turning away from him.

“The last time I jumped into something like this it didn’t end well.” you started quietly.

“You’ve been out of the hospital for three months Lieutenant. You’ve been living in that damn garage, and you’re not making any money. You can’t expect to live like this much longer.”

You turned away from him and crossed your arms over your chest. It was true. The way you were living wouldn’t last much longer, you had to make some changes. Slowly, you nodded your head and turned back to him.

“We have a deal?” he asked, outstretching he hand to you again.

“I just want to be a mechanic, nothing else,” you warned.

“Understood,” he replied, nonchalantly. You looked at his hand, then back to his one good eye before taking a step forward and shaking his hand.

“You have a deal.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, y'all made it! :P
> 
> Lemme know what you thought!
> 
> ——————————
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Matching & Grammar Check


	3. Return to the Helicarrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “(F/N),” he yelled over the sound of the engines, “I didn’t think you were going to be back this soon!”
> 
> “I’m not supposed to be, Art,” you called with a sly smile, “Don’t tell the doctors.”
> 
> “My lips are sealed,” Artie said looking you over, “Damn, girl, when they said you took a beating, they mean’t it.”
> 
> “It looks a lot worse than it is,” you scoffed.

> "When life knocks you down, calmly get back up, smile, and say, 'You hit like a bitch,'."

——————————

The keys in your hand jingled lightly as you slowly sat in your car. You groaned as you leaned forward to place the keys into the ignition and turn the engine over. The Firebird growled to life, releasing a comforting rumble, sighing you leaned back in your seat and shifted into drive, leaving the house that SHIELD had given you.

You had gotten out of the hospital a few days after you had woken up the first time and talked to the Director. A week afterward and you were heading back to work, your ribs were still sore and your arm was still in the sling, but you pushed through. You hadn’t spoken to or seen Fury since you saw him in the hospital, nor had you heard from any of the Avengers. This wasn’t a surprise to you. Fury would talk to you when the timing was right and it had been a one-time thing with the Avengers, you were done fighting. The Battle for New York had brought back a lot of bad memories, plus you hadn’t signed up for the Avengers.

 _Just one more mission,_ you had thought to yourself when Fury had asked for your help after Loki had broken out of and partially destroyed Helicarrier 64. You hadn’t thought that you would be fighting aliens coming out of the sky, you didn’t think you were going to help save the world. Fury had purposefully left out everything about working with the newly formed Avengers, you would have said no if you would have known. Getting attached to another team wasn’t something you wanted to happen. You distanced yourself from them during the meetings they had held the day of the attack, but you still fought with them, side-by-side to defeat Loki and his army and you won. That was it, _now_ you were done. You had told Agent Hill to tell the Director that, but knowing him, he wouldn’t listen.

You pulled up to an underground parking lot and flashed your ID to the guard working the gate. Nodding at you, he pressed a button and lifted the boom barrier. You drove to your designated parking spot and slowly got out of the car. Leaning back onto the side of the car, you caught your breath, _it was going to be a rough day._ The doctors had told you not to return to work yet, but you couldn’t stand being cooped up in your house with nothing to do, so you decided to go back.

You pushed yourself away from your car and made your way across the parking garage to an elevator. Taking out your ID, you swiped it and a light flashed green, the elevator doors opened swiftly with a swish. You stepped in, pressed the button for the roof and glanced at your watch. The transport to a seaborne helicarrier would be waiting for you on the roof.

The elevator took you directly to the top of the garages, there a SHIELD transport jet waited on a helipad. They were warming up the engines when you stepped out of the elevator and made your way towards the aircraft. A group of fancy dressed agents stood to the side of the pad, you walked past them on your way to the transport. The agents looked at you disdainfully and some of the women let out a small giggle, they were dressed as all office agents did, business suits.

You, on the other hand, were walking with a slight limp in your blue, long-sleeved mechanic jumpsuit, which was not very ‘fashionable’ and had large grease stains on it. Your hair was back in the neatest bun you could muster with only one hand and your old dog tags clanked with every step you took.

Ignoring the agents, you made eye contact with one of the transport pilots, who gave you a big smile and trotted over to you.

“(F/N),” he yelled over the sound of the engines, “I didn’t think you were going to be back this soon!”

“I’m not supposed to be, Art,” you called with a sly smile, “Don’t tell the doctors.”

“My lips are sealed,” Artie said looking you over, “Damn, girl, when they said you took a beating, they meant it.”

“It looks a lot worse than it is,” you scoffed, looking up at the jet, “How’s it running?”

“It needs a tune-up,” he answered, looking over the aircraft, “Scheduled for maintenance next week.” You nodded looking over the craft. “Time to load up,” Art said walking away from you and entering the vehicle.

The turbines began to speed up, letting out a high pitched whir as you followed Art into the vehicle. You found a place to sit in the rear of the plane and hooked yourself into the harness. You let out a low sigh and relaxed into your seat. The group of agents from outside finally made it on board, their hair and suits wind-blown. You could tell that some of them were trainees with gleams of excitement in their eyes, like children on their birthday. _Newbies._ You smiled inwardly, their eagerness brought back many memories.

“Agents, harness yourselves in and be prepared for take-off,” Art’s voice came over the intercom from the cockpit. The craft gave a small lurch before becoming airborne and heading off over the ocean towards the location of the Helicarrier. You closed your eyes and relaxed back into your seat, counting down the minutes until you arrived.

——————————

**Ansbach Military Base, Germany**

——————————

_You shook in excitement, as a Boeing C-17 came into sight from the midnight darkness. The plane was massive in comparison to the small Jeep you were riding in. Quietly the Jeep pulled up to the back of the aircraft and you hopped out. Your combat boots barely made a sound as you jaunted across the asphalt. Walking up the ramp you came face to face with Commander Weston and Captain Gonzalez._

_“Lieutenant (L/N),” Weston greeted, outstretching his hand to you. You took his hand quickly and shook it firmly. “Glad you could make it.” He turned from you and made his way up the cockpit._

_“(F/N),” Gonzalez said, nodding to you. He had a slight Spanish accent and shoulder-length, brown hair pulled back into a messy bun._

_“Daniel,” you nodded back. He turned from you and motioned for you to follow. The two of you made your way across the enormous plane. “What’s the plan, Cap?”_

_“Great question,” Daniel replied, “Weston, hasn’t briefed me yet. All I know is we’re headed back to Afghanistan.” You groaned loudly._

_“I just got out of there, Danny,” you complained._

_“Yeah I know, I guess there’s something that we have to take care of there.” he said looking at your disappointed face. He smirked and nudged your shoulder. “It’ll be fine, mi amor, everything will go according to plan, it always does.” You gave a soft smile. A trudging of footsteps from behind you made you turn around._

_“Sergeant Johnson,” you acknowledged the man walking towards you._

_“Hey, Doc.” Daniel said turning to face the field medic. Johnson was dressed the same as you and Gonzalez, in black combat gear. He gave a warm, toothy grin at the both of you._

_“Where’s Commander?” He asked, his deep voice echoing through the craft._

_“Cockpit,” Danny answered, pointing behind him. The three of you grouped together and resumed walking._

_“Aren’t we getting a newbie?” Johnson asked._

_“Yeah, probably gonna be late.” Danny remarked._

_“Probably got lost,” you commented as the group arrived at the cockpit. Commander Weston opened the door to the cabin, barking orders at the pilots. The three of you quickly standing at attention._

_“At ease soldiers,” Weston said, bustling past you. “Where’s the newbie?”_

_“Hasn’t shown up yet, Boss.” Gonzalez answered._

_“I’m here, sir,” came an out of breath voice and hurried footsteps. From across the length of the plane came a skinny, red-headed man. He was packed down with gear and was sweating terribly. Skidding to a stop in front of the Commander he stood at attention._

_“Gentlemen,” Weston began, “This is Private Oliver Walsh, our new communications tech. Captain, brief him on our team.” Weston walked briskly past Walsh and left the plane._

_“Private Walsh, I’m Captain Daniel Gonzalez, codename Nighthawk,” Daniel said introducing himself and outstretching his hand. “This is Lieutenant (F/N) (L/N), codename Ghost, and Sergeant Turner Johnson, codename Outbreak,” Walsh’s eyes lit up at the sound of your name._

_“L-Lieutenant, I’ve heard a lot about you and the attack on your base, you’re awesome!” He said quickly taking your hand and vigorously shaking it. You smiled and let out a hearty laugh._

_“I’m afraid I haven’t heard of you, Private.” you said. “But I’m sure we’ll change that.” His smile grew even bigger. Suddenly the engines fired up on the C-17. Commander Weston entered the plane again and the ramp began to close._

_“Strap in soldiers, we’re cleared for takeoff.” He barked. You quickly scrambled to a seat on the side of the plane and began strapping in, Walsh took a seat on your right and Gonzalez took a seat to your left. The aircraft began rolling forward and was soon airborne. Daniel whooped and hollered as it took off. Johnson let out a laugh and soon the entire group was giggling like children. You glanced over to Walsh, who had the biggest smile plastered on his face and a bright gleam of excitement in his eye._

_“Private,” you smiled, he looked at you, “Welcome to Operation Aftermath.”_

——————————

The SHIELD transport hovered over the Helicarrier before landing on a helipad. You were out of your harness in seconds, you squeezed past the newbie agents, who were having troubles getting out of their straps. Feeling bad you turned around and helped a couple of them out of their restraints before leaving them to help each other. You stepped down out of the transport and onto Helicarrier. The sun was beating down onto the tarmac and flight crews were moving together through the traffic. You squinted your eyes and made your way from the upper tarmac to the upper tower entrance, swiping your card you gained access to the inner tower.

The tower was bustling with activity, you made your way through the sea of people to the stairs and made your way to the lower decks. You opened the door to the maintenance deck and swiped your card to clock in. There was clanging of metal to your right and you looked. A damaged transport was sitting in the middle of the floor along with some others that just needed minor upkeep. Different maintenance teams danced around the deck from different transports and jets needing repair. You walked to a small office in the corner of the floor. Opening the door you looked around.

The office was tidy, but a stack of papers concerning maintenance details piled up on the desk. Sitting down at your computer, you logged in. The repair logs opened and you groaned at how much work needed to be done. _What have they been doing the past week?_ You slid your chair back and opened the top drawer of your desk. Digging through the drawer, you grabbed out an earpiece, activated it, and plugged it in your ear. You grabbed the stack of files from your desk and parceled them out into personnel bins, assigning all your mechanics a job.

Without warning, a voice came in your earpiece and over the intercom. “(F/N) (L/N) to the upper tower conference room. (F/N) (L/N) to upper tower conference room, please.” _This better be good._ You finished parceling out assignments and then made your way to the personnel elevator. Entering the elevator you pressed the switch to the upper tower. The doors closed and you were on your way.

——————————

“Sir, she’s already back at the helicarrier.” came an agent’s voice. “She’s still weak, would you like us to activate a team?”

“No, just watch her.” came a heavily accented voice. He had salt and pepper hair and glasses that hung onto the end of his nose, he was watching a projected screen over a table.

“Sir, we could have the Asset take her down and bring her here,” the agent suggested, glancing over to the man in the cryo chamber behind them. “She wouldn’t know what hit her.”

“No.” the accented man repeated, “She will be more useful if she stays to work on the helicarriers. Nick Fury will put her to work on Project Insight. With her help, they’ll get it done faster.” He looked up to the screen, watching you move to the elevator from the helicarrier’s security footage.

“We have agents stationed on the helicarrier, sir, there will be eyes on her at all times.”

“Good.” He adjusted his glasses and straightened his coat.

“Sir, what about the Avengers?”

“If they offer her anything, she will decline. She thinks she can walk away from what she is, what she has done, but she’s wrong. So horribly wrong.” he watched you stand motionless in the elevator, standing like a true soldier. “The activation of Project Insight will provide cover for you to bring her in…alive. We won’t need what she knows until then.”

“And Fury, what if he finds out? What if _she_ finds out?”

“He won’t. SHIELD. thinks we were destroyed, they don’t know that they are just pawns in our game. And her? She doesn’t realize what it is she’s seen, what we want.” He looked over to another projection, footage of you in Iraq and Columbia. He watched you fight, shoot, and think.

“Yes sir.” the agent said, backing away from the man before giving a quick salute, “Hail Hydra.”

“She doesn’t know it, but she will change everything.” he whispered to himself, smiling wickedly. “Hail Hydra indeed.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it!!!
> 
> Yaaayy!!
> 
> Let me know what you thought!!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	4. Avengers Initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lieutenant (L/N), thank you for joining us,” Fury started, gesturing to a chair on the end opposite of him. You looked at him then the chair before shaking your head.
> 
> “What’s this about Fury?” you asked darkly, already knowing the answer.
> 
> “We wanted to thank you for your help with New York.” Steve jumped in quickly, before Fury could get a word in.
> 
> “Indeed, you fought like a true warrior!” Thor interjected from where he sat next to Steve, pumping his fist into the sky. Your eyes didn’t leave Fury’s as the rest of the Avengers jumped in with agreements.
> 
> “What’s this about, Fury?” You repeated. The Director leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together.
> 
> “We want to talk to you about…”

> "I may look calm, but in my head I've killed you three times."

——————————

The elevator came to a halt and the doors whisked open. You walked out into the hallway and took a sharp left. Striding down the corridor, you passed various laboratories and testing centers each filled with scientists and engineers in white lab coats. The rooms they were in were bright white, glistening with cold, metallic objects.

_Bright lights, squinting eyes. Cold metal on your back, sending chills through your body._

Your step faltered slightly, but you kept moving forward.

_Breathing ragged, a metal taste in your mouth. Restrained to the table._

You shook your head, trying to make it stop.

_Surrounded by lab coats, pain shooting through your body, holding back a scream._

Taking another hard left, you arrived at the conference room, your hand reached for the door handle.

_“We’ll make the pain stop Lieutenant, we just want to know what you saw.”_

Your grip tightened and your breathing hitched.

_"Lieutenant, we’ll make the pain stop. Just tell me what I want.”_

“Lieutenant?” came a voice from behind you, bringing you back to the present. You didn’t jump at the sound but took a silent shaky breath.

“Captain Rogers,” you responded, your grip on the handle loosening. Turning around you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Captain America himself.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly, looking you over.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” you said, brows furrowing in feigned confusion. Your heart rate had started to steady and your breathing returned to normal.

“Well, you were in the hospital for a couple of weeks,” he said, gazing at you curiously. Relieved that he hadn’t noticed your miniature break down, you gave a small smile.

“I’m fine,” you chirped, stretching your hand towards the door handle, “It would be better if I could get back to work.” Steve nodded his head in understanding as you opened the door to the conference room. Stepping back you gestured for him to enter first, smiling in thanks he obliged. You turned to follow him and closed the door behind you.

——————————

_You entered a dimly lit conference room, in the middle there was a large circular table, three people were seated around it. You recognized one person out of all of them, Commander Mikhail Weston. He had visited you in the hospital a week ago, talking about your service in the war and about your abilities as a sniper. He had a deep brown buzzcut and dark eyes and was wearing his green and khaki service uniform, his service cap sat on the table in front of him._

_To his left sat another man with shoulder length hair, sitting tall. His eyes were a light hazel and were almost hidden under long dark lashes. His tanned skin contrasted with his bright eyes and the ends of his lips were curved upward, creating an ever-upbeat expression on his face._

_To Commander Weston’s right sat another man, sitting tall with a fixed expression on the manila folder in front of him. He had deep mahogany skin which brought out his bright blue eyes that were scanning the folder for information. As you entered the room, he looked up from the papers and smiled a bright, white smile at you._

_“Lieutenant (L/N), thanks for joining us. Please, have a seat.” Commander Weston began, motioning to a chair opposite of them. “This is Captain Daniel Gonzalez and Sergeant Turner Johnson…”-_

——————————

You entered the brightly lit conference room. Seated around a rectangular table sat the Avengers and Director Fury. Fury sat at the head of the table, with Steve Rogers on his left and Tony Stark on his right.

“Lieutenant (L/N), thank you for joining us,” Fury started, gesturing to a chair on the end opposite of him. You looked at him than the chair before shaking your head.

“What’s this about Fury?” you asked darkly, already knowing the answer.

“We wanted to thank you for your help with New York.” Steve jumped in quickly before Fury could get a word in.

“Indeed, you fought like a true warrior!” Thor interjected from where he sat next to Steve, pumping his fist into the sky. Your eyes didn’t leave Fury’s as the rest of the Avengers jumped in with agreements.

“What’s this about, _Fury_?” You repeated. The Director leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together.

“We want to talk to you about…”

——————————

_"…Operation Aftermath.” Commander Weston stated, relaxing to the back of his seat._

_“What’s that?” You asked._

_“Operation Aftermath is a Special Forces team I’ve been ordered to put together in order to gather intelligence, engage in guerrilla warfare, and take down other criminal organizations. We will be working not only in Iraq and Afghanistan but all around the world.”_

_“Why me sir?” You questioned, “I’m nothing special.”_

_“Maybe not now, but I can see potential. You passed your Scout Sniper Training Test, and you fought well in the attack against your base. You don’t know it yet, but you’re going to be the best.”_

_You looked at Commander Weston in udder shock. When he had asked you to meet him, you hadn’t expected to be recruited to an undercover team, you had expected to be discharged or sent back on tour, but never this._

_“Lieutenant, I need you on my team, are you in or are you out?”_

——————————

“…the Avengers Initiative.” Fury started, keeping eye contact with you.

“No,” you stated, quickly and flatly. Starting to turn away from the table, back towards the door.

_"I’m in.”_

“Lieutenant, wait.” Fury said, standing from his chair, “We need you.”

“No,” you repeated.

“(F/N),” Steve said, quietly, “Just consider.”

“You’re a good fighter, (F/N),” Stark stated from his seat, “We could use someone with your skills.”

“Yes, Lady (F/N), join us in our fight against the forces of evil!” Thor cried jubilantly from his chair.

“Let her make up her own mind you guys,” Dr. Banner interjected, which earned him a death glare from Tony.

“Thank you, Dr. Banner,” you acknowledged, before turning to the rest of them. “I have three words for all of you: I. Am. Retired. I’ve done my duty, above and beyond, all I want to do is live a normal life now. Normal is not becoming a superhero and defending the world.”

“I wouldn’t say normal is working on a top-secret Helicarrier,” Stark muttered.

“It pays good,” you growled in response.

“I will pay you to be an Avenger.” Tony began standing from his chair.

“You can’t just pay people to do stuff like that Tony,” Clint said across the table, looking bored.

“I’m pretty sure I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Stop it,” Natasha barked at the two, before turning to you, “It’s your choice Lieutenant, but you would be a great asset to us.”

You sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “I can’t you guys. I’ve fought enough.” You muttered, putting your head in your hands, the room went quiet.

“If that is your decision, then we respect it,” Steve said, standing from his chair. “It was an honor to fight by your side,” He made his way over to you. When he got closer, you stood as well.

“And it was an honor to fight by yours, I appreciate the offer.” You spoke, offering your hand out to him.

“You saved my life, Lieutenant, if you ever need anything…”

“I’ll let you know,” you smiled.

One by one the Avengers filed out of the room, only Fury and you were left. You looked up to him. He had moved over to the side of the room, looking out a window into the blue sky.

“Director, I apologize.” you started.

“Don’t,” he said, sticking a hand up to silence you. He turned towards you and smirked. “I knew you’d say no.”

“Then why’d you have the meeting?” you asked, confused.

“To get them off my back,” he said, looking you in the eyes, “They haven’t stopped talking about you for weeks. But, there’s another reason I called you here, besides the whole Avengers thing.” He motioned for you to take a seat, you quirked an eyebrow at him but obliged. “I want to talk to you about a new project I’m starting called Project Insight.”

“Project Insight?”

“Three new Helicarriers need building.” He stated, simply. “I want you there to oversee the construction.”

“Sir, I’m not sure I’m qualified.”

“You’ve fixed this Helicarrier numerous times, Lieutenant, you know them inside and out. No doubt you have some ideas to make them better as well, you’re damn well certified. I want someone I trust to take care of them, you fit the bill.” He said. “You’d be working right next to the Triskelion, have shorter commutes, and you’d spend a lot more time on the ground.”

“You sure know how to convince people,” you groaned, leaning back and running your fingers through your hair. “When do we get started?”

“A transport is waiting for you on the lower tarmac. It will take you back to the Triskelion, an agent will prep you and get you situated.” Fury stood and walked towards you. “What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? Get to work.” You smirked as he exited the room. Standing you made your way to the elevator and pushed the button for the lower tarmac.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what y'all thought!! :D
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	5. Flashback : Aerocell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...all you had to do was find a target and let mayhem break loose. You started to aim for one of the guards close to the boys, but at the last moment you had the feeling of eyes on you. Looking back to where transaction was taking place, you met the steely, glare of the Metal Armed Dude.
> 
> “Uh-oh,” you whispered, waiting for him to reveal your location, but before he could, one of the Taliban leaders produced a slim metal box, the Aerocell Terminol. Business Suit Man smiled and outstretched a hand for the box. You quickly began to recalibrate your rifle, finally picking a target. In a rapid movement, your fingers reached for the trigger and the sound of your rifle rang through the valley, piercing through the silence. Your bullet found its mark, blowing the brains out of the target...

 

>  "In the absence of a plan, move towards the sound of gunfire and kill everything."

——————————

**Camp Phoenix**

**Kabul, Afghanistan**

——————————

The plane landed with a jerk, the landing gear screeching as the plane began to slow. Head down, you hung onto your harness as the C-17 finally came to an abrupt stop.

“Up and at ‘em soldiers,” Danny yelled over the sound of the droning engines. You easily clicked the harness off yourself and stood at attention, awaiting orders. Daniel was the second to rise next to you, then Turner, and lastly Oliver. The four of you stood in a line together, heads up and shoulders back. Command Weston strode out of the cockpit and over to your line.

“Listen up, men.” he began “We’re headed into Kabul on a Black Ops mission. Most of our troops have pulled out of the city. A uniform isn’t normal to see anymore, we’re going to need to blend in. The objective of this mission is to retrieve a piece of technology from Taliban insurgents that was stolen off a convoy. Private Walsh knows the specs and importance of the tech, Private.” Oliver took a step forward from the line and took a deep breath, obviously nervous.

“The missing tech is a prototype Aerocell Terminal, it’s designed to monitor our troop's movements and emergency protocols. Whoever has it will know exactly what we’re going to do before we do, they’ll know exactly where we are, what we’re doing, and when we’ll be there.” Oliver huffed, “Good news is, without the correct password hacking into the tech is almost impossible, however in the right hackers hands they could breach the protocol in a matter of hours.”

“Sir, none of my sources have been able to confirm that the Taliban have a hacker in Kabul,” Daniel stated.

“If that’s true, then they haven’t taken it for themselves,” you assessed, “They’re planning on selling it to another party.”

“Nicely done Lieutenant,” Weston affirmed, “There has been chatter about an influx of money into suspected Taliban accounts.”

“Then it’s already been sold,” Turner said.

“But the actual swap for Aerocell hasn’t happened yet.” Weston revealed, “Contacts in Kabul have said it’s still in Taliban hands.”

“Giving us time to grab Aerocell and figure out who the buyer is,” you nodded.

“Correct,” Weston approved, “Captain Gonzalez, Lieutenant (L/N), and Sergeant Johnson will be undercover inside Kabul. Private Walsh and I will set up a safe house and communications center outside the city. I want both buyer and seller caught, but most importantly we get the Aerocell Terminal back. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

——————————

Your eyes scanned the marketplace like a hawk from underneath the black burka you were wearing. You were sitting in the corner next to a fruit stand, watching people come and go from the market.

“No sign of the target, yet,” you said quietly into the headset you had been equipped with.

“All clear here as well,” Turner’s deep voice came through. You glanced over to where he was stationed, next to a clothing stand wearing traditional Afghan garb.

“Keep your eyes open, he’ll show,” Commander Weston spoke. You scoured the marketplace, looking for the target, your wandering eyes hidden beneath the veil you wore.

A few hours after landing at Camp Phoenix, Daniel had been contacted by one of his insurgents in the city. The insurgent had told of a Taliban agent that had been directly involved with the transaction for Aerocell. Your team acted quickly, procuring disguises and setting up a safe house. If you were able to catch one person with ties to the sell, you could _persuade_ them to talk, making your job much easier.

“I got eyes on the target, repeat, Ghost has eyes on the target,” you said calmly, watching as a man fitting the description the informant had given you entered from the south side of the market. “He’s armed, but it looks like he’s alone. Nighthawk you have a better angle, confirm.” You continued, your eyes steady on the target.

“Confirmed target. He’s got at least two knives and possibly a firearm under his robes. He’s alone.” Gonzalez confirmed.

“Proceed with caution team,” Weston ordered. You began to move from your position, slowly getting a better angle on the man. He continued throughout the market, browsing at each of the stands and buying things here and there. You watched as Gonzalez followed close behind him, pretending to glance through a pile of fruit. The target looked up to Danny for a split second, eyeing him strangely.

“Nighthawk, you’ve been made. Get out of there.” you murmured quickly. He did as you said, moving away from the target as if he needed something from another stand. You sighed in relief as the man relaxed and began to browse again. He bought some fruit from the stand and began to exit the marketplace.

“Kingpin, he’s on the move,” Turner said to Weston through the comms, “Would you like us to engage?”

“Follow him, don’t make a scene.”

“On his tail,” you chirped, striding into the crowd, keeping a close eye on the back of the man’s head. “Outbreak take the right, Nighthawk on my left.” Behind you, both Turner and Danny ducked into opposite side streets. You followed the target closely through the narrow streets.

“Blackhat,” you spoke to Oliver, “What’s it look like?”

“Side streets are connected by a couple of alleys 100 yards ahead of you, off to the left of them is an abandoned building,” Oliver advised the sound of typing on the other end of the line.

“How convenient,” Danny responded, you could tell that he was smiling in anticipation. “Your call, Boss.” The streets were busy with a sea of people brushing past each other.

“50 yards and closing,” Ollie stated. There was silence on the other end of the line as your team awaited orders and the crossroads drew nearer. You began to speed up until you were only a few feet away from the target.

“30 yards.”

You could smell the man now, body odor and gunpowder overpowered your nose.

“20 yards.”

His robes flipped up behind him when a swift breeze flowed through the street, exposing a pistol tucked into his belt.

“Confirmed target has a firearm,” you whispered.

“10 yards.”

Your muscles began to tense and you could feel adrenaline ready to flow through your veins.

“15 feet, Boss. Window is closing,”

You were so close to the target now you could reach out and touch him if you wanted. The silence on the other end of the comms seemed like an eternity before it ended.

“Jump him,” Weston’s voice growled, the crossroad was upon you. You strode past the target and brushed against him. Swinging around quickly, you straightened your hand, palm up, and connected with the side of his throat with just enough force to stun him for a second. He dropped his things from the market and before he could make an exclamation, Daniel came from the left side of the street and put the man in a sleeper hold, covering his mouth. You quickly grabbed the two knives and gun from the target and tucked them into your own robes. The man struggled to get out of Danny’s hold as Danny dragged him back into the alley towards the abandoned building.

As he was doing so, Turner came from the opposite side of the street, taking a syringe from his pocket. You wrestled one of the man’s arms away from Danny and lifted part of his robe to expose his arm. In a swift stroke, Turner stuck the syringe in his arm and injected the liquid inside. The target succumbed to Danny’s hold before the tranquilizer. As the man went limp, Daniel shifted his grip to under the man’s arms and Turner grabbed his legs, lifting him quickly towards the building.

You scanned the streets, looking for anyone who may have witnessed the struggle, there was no-one. Following Danny and Turner into the alley, you busted open the door and made your way inside. You stole one more glance into the street before closing the door.

“Objective complete, target acquired, Commander,” you reported, “Awaiting further instructions.

——————————

The man awoke a few hours later to Danny and Turner playing cards at an old table, and you looking out the window, twiddling one of his knives in your hands. Daniel had tied him securely to an old chair you had obtained from in the old building. His hands were tied to each arm of the chair and his ankles to each leg. Your team had quickly changed out of the disguises you wore and into your combat gear, courtesy of Commander Weston who had made his way through the city and to the building you were holding the man in. You hadn’t realized the man was awake until he began shouting in Pashto.

Daniel began speaking to him in a calm, threatening tone; his face darkened with every word he spoke. You were able to understand bits and pieces of what was being said, and it didn’t seem it was going well. Danny began to question him about Aerocell and the transaction but groaned at the man’s response.

“He’s refusing to cooperate, Kingpin,” Danny sighed.

“Ghost,” Weston exhaled, before looking up to you, “Take care of him.”

You looked up at Weston and then at the man and nodded, still fiddling with the knife in your hands.

“Translate for me, Nighthawk,” you spoke, “Tell him I’m about to hurt him.”

Daniel began to translate, the man scoffed a reply and smirked.

“He says you’re a woman, you can’t do him any harm.”

You quirked an eyebrow at his response and strode over to the man, stopping directly in front of him.

“Tell him to apologize,” you said and Daniel translated. The man let out a laugh and began to say a reply, but you cut him off. With an abrupt stroke, you stuck the knife that was in your hand directly into his thigh, plunging it as deep as you could without hitting any major arteries. The man let out an unnatural howl and Danny began talking to him again. You kept eye contact with the man as he began to sweat, swear, and bleed. Crimson liquid began to stain his white robes as he started to curse you.

“When is the swap scheduled for?” you asked, your hand still applying pressure to the knife. The man became silent, glaring at you. Frowning you began to twist the knife in his leg, he screamed again. “When is the swap?” you repeated. He started speaking quickly to Daniel.

“He says tomorrow night, 2400,” Daniel answered, glancing up at Weston. You pulled the knife out of the man’s leg.

“Where?” you questioned, wiping the blood off of the knife on your pant leg.

“He says he doesn’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you snarled. The man repeated his answer, his voice cracking as he tried to explain to Danny. “How does he know when, but not where. That makes no sense.” The man began to talk to Daniel at a rapid pace, his hands fidgeting.

“He says he overheard when it was, but left before he heard where,” Daniel explained.

“Liar,” you growled, in the blink of an eye, you slashed the knife downwards through his right hand and into the wooden chair. “Where. Is. The. Swap.”

“Out in the desert, towards Bagram, just past Kalakan. There’s a hidden compound in the valley.” Danny interpreted through the man’s sobs.

“Nicely done, Nighthawk,” Weston praised grimly, “Outbreak gather the gear. Ghost, clean up this mess.” You nodded in response as Weston strode out of the room. “Rendezvous at the safe house, make sure no one tails you.”

Danny and Turner gathered what they had brought and you motioned for them to leave. One last time you looked the target in his eyes before taking out a pistol from your belt.

“Pray,” you said quietly in Pashto as you walked behind him, pulling out a suppressor and screwing it onto the barrel. He began wailing a prayer. Sliding the rack back with a click, you chambered a round and extended the gun to the back of his head. You took a deep breath before placing your finger on the trigger and firing the gun.

——————————

You were lying facedown on the edge of a cliff above the Taliban stronghold, you leaned against your rifle and glassed the dirt road that led to the compound. Finding the complex had been easy, thanks to Oliver’s computer skills. He had been able to commandeer a satellite to take imagery of the ground, enabling your team to quickly identify it’s exact location. After finding the compound, your team, minus Oliver, had made the long trek into the desert. You and Weston scouted out the location and quickly came up with a plan: Danny and Turner would infiltrate the building and retake Aerocell while Weston set charges around the perimeter, you, of course, would be the lookout and, in case the plan went south, you would be providing long-range cover.

You had found the perfect spot for a sniper’s nest and had set up quickly. Laying in the dirt had not been the most comfortable thing in the world and, to make it worse, you had been there for hours; endlessly glassing the compound and the entrance road, watching for any sign of a threat. So far, there hadn’t been much activity. A guard from inside the compound had come out for a short break but had gone back inside a few minutes later. You shifted your weight a fraction of an inch, trying to get settled in, your muscles seemed to creak with the movement.

Overhead, the sun had begun to set and the temperature began to drop. You took a deep breath and began to relax into your rifle, continuously scanning the base. The only company you had on the cliff was silence and a small breeze wafting its way past you. Weston had decided to keep the comms quiet as much as possible, just in case the base was sweeping through frequencies. You turned on the night vision scope on your rifle and waited for a sound to come through the comms.

After a few hours, a voice finally came through.

“Aftermath is go.” Weston’s voice signaled. It was a simple phrase, a short phrase, but it had been the signal for the start of every mission you had been on with Weston. It meant that your team was coming and that anyone opposed to you had better be ready for a shit-storm. “Sound off soldiers.”

“Roger that, Blackhat here, communications are up and running.”

“Outbreak ready.”

“Nighthawk on the move.”

“Ghost is go,” you breathed, out of the corner of your scope you could see Danny and Turner making their way to a back entrance. Scanning in front of them you made sure that the coast was clear. “Nighthawk, Outbreak your route is open.” You watched as they both easily made it past the door and disappeared into the building. The boys had gone in with an exact replica of the Aerocell Terminal, but this one included an added feature. Oliver had outfitted the model with a working computer _and_ a tracking device that would allow you to follow it anywhere in the world.

You glassed the road again, this time spotting a vehicle tearing through the dirt.

“Vehicle approaches,” you reported over the headset, “How much longer guys?”

Your question was answered with silence and the vehicle raged down the road toward the compound. The vehicle’s headlights illuminated the front of the building as it came to a stop. Without warning, lights around the complex lit up the valley. Two men exited the building, both wearing traditional Afghan robes, behind them came a line of soldiers armed with machine guns. Your entire body tensed when you realized that in the middle of the soldiers were Turner and Danny, their hands tied in front of them. As the group stopped, weapons at the ready, your boys were forced to their knees.

“Kingpin, Nighthawk and Outbreak have been caught. Kingpin? Do you read me? Aw, hell,” you growled to yourself, finally understanding. They had jammed your communication devices, leaving your entire team in the dark. You turned your attention back to the valley. Out of the vehicle came black-clad mercenaries carrying rifles. From the back of the transport, exited an older looking man. He had salt and pepper hair along with glasses slid down the end of his nose, he was wearing a grey business suit.

The opposite side doors of the vehicle opened and out stepped another man. He had long, brown hair, much like Danny’s, but he was pale. Over the bottom half of his face was a mask, gripping his face like a muzzle, but the most striking feature of him was the fact that one of his arms was solid metal. It glinted in the lights as he rounded the vehicle only to stop by the side of the older man.

The two leaders from the Taliban side began conversing with the suited man, you attempted to read their lips only to fail miserably. You were too far away to make out what they were saying. Glancing back to Danny and Turner, you tried to find a way to get into contact with them. Their comms had been confiscated and the signal was jammed, you didn’t want to risk moving and catching the attention of the enemy so you held still. Slowly, you moved your scope back to where the men where bargaining and you began to choose a target.

There was many to choose from. You could go with one of the guards holding Danny and Turner, the leaders of the Taliban, Business Suit Man, hell, you could have shot anyone, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. Every scenario going through your head ended in tragedy, you had to wait for the right moment. You began to multitask, keeping an eye on Danny and looking for your target. From the corner of your sights, you saw Danny’s head move.

It was a quick movement, designed to look like he was adjusting his neck, but really, he was trying to get a look to you. You looked him over and soon realized why he was trying to signal you. He had gotten himself free of his bonds, all you had to do was find a target and let mayhem break loose. You started to aim for one of the guards close to the boys, but at the last moment, you had the feeling of eyes on you. Looking back to where the transaction was taking place, you met the steely, glare of the Metal Armed Dude.

“Uh-oh,” you whispered, waiting for him to reveal your location, but before he could, one of the Taliban leaders produced a slim metal box, the Aerocell Terminal. Business Suit Man smiled and outstretched a hand for the box. You quickly began to recalibrate your rifle, finally picking a target. In a rapid movement, your fingers reached for the trigger and the sound of your rifle rang through the valley, piercing through the silence. Your bullet found its mark, blowing the brains out of the target, Aerocell.

The box exploded into thousands of shattered pieces of plastic and metal, sending a spray of shrapnel into the ranks of the enemy. Suddenly, all hell broke loose as Danny and Turner both turned on their guards and stripped them of their weapons. You quickly reloaded and began to sight in another target, the soldiers closest to your team.

Smoking brass flew out of your rifle as you fired at targets at a machine gun rate. You hit all of your marks, helping Danny and Turner gain the upper hand. Business Suit Man had turned tail and ran to the safety of his armored vehicle. You turned your attention away from the Taliban and to the mysterious mercenaries who they were fighting with. Easily, you sent off a few rounds, each hitting their mark. What you didn’t realize was that you had become someone else’s target.

You felt a sharp wind blow past your ear, not understanding what had just happened until you felt a warm liquid dripping down your face. Your heart dropped in comprehension and you rolled out of the way, stopping behind a rock. It shielded you from an onslaught of bullets that kicked up dust all around you. Peeking down into the valley you finally realized who had just shot you, Metal Arm Dude.

Growling ferociously under your breath, you loaded your rifle and swung out from the rock aiming at him. He took the chance and fired another bullet at you. You dodged out of the way only to find yourself face-to-face with loose rocks and a steep hill. Losing your balance, you lost your grip on your rifle and went tumbling down towards the valley. You came to a stop at the bottom, quickly trying to get back on your feet. Your head began to spin and you could feel more blood running down your face. Steadying yourself, you desperately searched for your rifle; luckily it had landed only a couple of feet from you.

The grinding of gravel caught your attention and you looked up towards the firefight. Business Suit Man’s goons had packed up and were speeding away in the vehicle. You lifted your rifle and aimed for the vehicle's windows. Your bullet impacted with the glass and the window spidered, but the bullet didn’t penetrate; you had known that it wouldn’t. You hadn’t aimed to take another life, no, now you were just sending a message; they had missed you, you were still alive.

You watched as the vehicle disappeared into dust and darkness, wondering who they were. The rumbling of helicopter blades broke you from your trance, the feeling of dread filled your being. Thinking that the Taliban had called for reinforcements you sprinted into the firefight, pulling out duel pistols from your sides. As you approached, you got a better look at the chopper. It wasn’t the Taliban’s, it was one of the good guy’s. The doors slid open to reveal none other than the Commander himself and Oliver, you made your way to them, popping off a couple of shots into the enemy. Oliver helped you into the helicopter, and right behind you, Turner and Danny followed. Once everyone was inside the doors slid shut and the chopper began to rise.

“That didn’t go according to plan,” Weston stated, looking over the compound as more Taliban filtered out. He didn’t look worried, as a matter of fact, he was surprisingly calm.

“What about the compound, sir? We can’t just leave it?” Danny yelled over the rotors.

“We’re not,” Weston smirked, holding up a detonator.

“Nice,” you approved, taking one last look at the stronghold. With an easy press of the button, the building burst into flames and smoke as the helicopter carried you away towards Kabul. “Sir, what about Aerocell?” you asked realizing that because of you, it had been destroyed instead of delivered back to the proper hands.

Instead of Weston answering, Ollie smiled and held up a flash drive, “While Turner and Danny got caught, Commander was able to pull all the info onto this.”

You grinned, another mission success.

“Job well done, lads,” Weston said with a smile.

“Where to next, boss?” Turner asked.

“Columbia, something ‘bout a drug lord.”

“Sounds like a great time,” you sighed, relaxing back into your seat and closing your eyes. The rumble of the helicopter was comforting, combined with the long day you had had and your blood loss, you were soon passed out. The last thing you saw before you dozed off, was the intense gaze of the man with the metal arm.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shoot, ya made it!!
> 
> Let me know what you thought (and if there were any mistakes)!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/28/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	6. EXO-7 Falcon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “(F/N), you need to know, Nat and I…we’re considered fugitives by SHIELD. If you help us, you’ll be aiding criminals, if you’re caught you could be punished…” Steve began, making eye contact with you.
> 
> “If I’m caught,” you interrupted, “Steve, I’d love to see ‘em try and catch me.” You sat down on the couch, “Now, what’s the plan Cap?”
> 
> “We need to kidnap Jasper Sitwell…” Steve said, making his way to a chair.
> 
> “Sounds easy, what do you need me for?”
> 
> “…in broad daylight.”
> 
> “That may be a problem.”

>  “It’s scary what a smile can hide.”

——————————

“Hey man,” he said quizzically, sliding open the glass door to his home.

“I’m sorry about this. We need a place to lay low,” the blond stated, clearly out of breath and somewhat strained.

His red-head companion scanned the neighborhood behind them uneasily, “Everyone we know is trying to kill us.”

“Not everyone,” the man at the door replied, glancing between the two and stepping aside for them to enter the house. He stuck his head out the door as they ducked inside, peering down the street for anyone watching, and gently slid the door shut, dropping the blinds.

——————————

Right. Left. Uppercut. Kick. Duck.

The rhythmic thuds of punches being landed echoed throughout your basement. The heavy bag swung back an forth as you nailed each hit. With a perfectly landed roundhouse kick, the bag flew horizontally before swinging back at you. You grabbed it with two gloved hands and connected the bag with your knee before landing another punch. Sweat dripped down your face as you clenched your jaw and juked out of the way of the bag, giving it another kick as it went by.

_“(F/N) do you ever stop?” Turner asked from across the room._

_“Nope,” you replied curtly, slightly out of breath. Danny scoffed at the weapons table._

_“I think she’d go crazy if she did,” he said to Turner, “Ain’t that right, amor?”_

_“Probably,” you grinned._

_“Where’d you learn that, Lieutenant?” Ollie questioned, still typing away on the computer he was at._

_“My uncle.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah. Enough with the questions. Y’all are distracting me.”_

“Y’all are distracting me,” you repeated to yourself, hitting the bag harder.

 ——————————

“So the question is,” Romanoff started, flipping a piece of hair over her shoulder, “Who at SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?”

“Pierce,” Steve answered, almost immediately. Sam looked up from the toast he was buttering.

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world,” Natasha said, folding her arms over her chest in thought.

“But he’s not working alone,” Steve interjected, a slight edge on his voice, “Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

“So was Jasper Sitwell,” the red-head replied.

“So the real question is: How do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?” Steve thought aloud, leaning back in his seat. Sam dropped the butter knife he was holding and rounded the corner with a framed picture and file.

“The answer is you don’t.”

“What’s this?”

“Call it a resumé.”

——————————

You caught the bag easily after you landed your last punch and brought one of your gloves up to your teeth, tearing apart the velcro and slipping off the glove. Taking off the other one you tossed them onto the ground behind you and made your way over to the makeshift pull up bar across the room. You wiped the sweat off your palms and jumped up onto the bar, lifting yourself up and down.

_”So if your uncle taught you to fight, who taught you to shoot?” Ollie asked absentmindedly one day._

_“He did. He was a Vietnam Vet,” you answered, cleaning out your rifle, “Taught me everything I know.”_

_“So your parents weren’t around much or…” he trailed off, looking away from you._

_“That’s a conversation for another time Rookie,” you muttered, sliding the bolt on your rifle forward._

_“Understood Lieutenant.”_

“Ugh,” you grunted, dropping off the bar and holding your head in your hands, “Stop it.”

_”Ya know what kid,” Uncle Tim said, taking a long drag on his cigarette._

_“What?” younger you asked swinging your legs back and forth off the edge of the tailgate, an almost empty juice box in your hand._

_“You gonna be somethin’ one day. Everyone’s gonna know your name,” he beamed, looking down at you, a long plume of smoke floated from his nostrils._

_“Yeah?” you smiled, one of your front teeth missing. Uncle Tim chugged the last of his beer before nodding._

_“Yeah,” he said looking over the horizon, to where the sun was fading, “You ready?”_

_“Yup.”_

_He pumped a bullet into the chamber of a .22 rifle and handed it to you._

_“Eyes open, baby girl, always on the target.”_

_You brought the gun up to your eye and gave him a small nod. With a huge swing of his arm, he launched the empty beer can into the sky. Following the can’s path through the wild blue yonder you pulled the trigger, causing the can to go flying in the other direction._

_“Yeah! Atta baby!” Tim cried, pulling you into a small hug, “You keep this up honey, you gonna be the best in the world.”_

You groaned again, sliding down the wall into a defeated slump.

 ——————————

“Where can we get our hands on one of these things?” Steve asked looking up from the file.

“Last one is at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall,” Sam explained. Steve looked at Natasha as if they were having a telepathic conversation, and she shrugged.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Steve answered getting up from his seat, he paused, “Actually, I know someone who might be able to help.”

——————————

You held your head in your hands, it had been a long month and it had taken everything out of you. Finishing the Helicarriers by the deadline had been difficult, but you and your team of builders, engineers, and mechanics had gotten it done just in time to be given to the programmers. You hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past few weeks, staying behind after everyone had left just to finish up small details on the huge machines and getting there early to start before everyone else. Finishing up Project Insight had ended after two long years, and their launch was any day now. You had been invited to the launch, but declined; too many people would be there in the hanger as the huge machines took off, and you were not a people person.

Not to mention you’d been in a rather foul mood ever since you heard about Director Fury’s death. Fury had been the only one you had kept in contact with over the years. The Avengers had all but forgotten you, or so you hoped.

You were brought out of your moping by the sound of footsteps above you, your head snapped up from your hands and you quickly stood. Making your way across your basement you grabbed your SIG from a drawer and checked the magazine, ten rounds were all you had to work with.

You snuck quietly up the stairs to the main floor, listening to the footsteps move around the house. At least three people were in your home, making their way across your living room. The door to the basement was closed, you put your hand on the doorknob, and listened for the footsteps to position themselves where you wanted them. One was by your couch, the other in your kitchen, and the last was making their way towards your bedroom. You took a deep breath and flicked the safety off the pistol. Slowly you twisted the handle, making sure it didn’t make a sound and opened the door, firearm aimed at the person by the couch.

“Hey, hey, hey!” The man by the couch said, putting his hands in the air, “Uh, Cap? I found her.”

You knitted your eyebrows together before flicking your eyes to the person in the kitchen, “Captain Rogers.”

“Lieutenant,” The tall, blond greeted from the kitchen, “You gonna put the gun down?”

“I’m thinking about it,” you grunted, “Soon as you explain why you broke into my house.”

“The door was unlocked,” A third voice came from the hallway by your room.

“Agent Romanoff,” you nodded, “Still didn’t tell me why though.”

“We need your help,” Steve said, taking a few steps toward you.

“Who’s he?”

“Sam Wilson, United States Air Force, ma’am,” Sam answered quickly. You lowered your gun, flipping on the safety, and tucking it into your waistband.

“First Lieutenant (F/N) (L/N), United States Marine Corps,” you said, stepping forward with your hand outstretched, “Sorry ‘bout that Flyboy.”

“Apology accepted…Devil Dog,” he smiled, lowering his hands and reaching for yours. You gave a firm shake and gave a small smile back.

“What can I do for you Captain?” you asked turning back to Rogers in the kitchen.

“You’ve heard about Fury’s death?” he questioned, you nodded, “How much do you know?”

“Not much,” you answered.

“He was killed by an assassin called the Winter Soldier, have you heard of him?”

“No,” you said, “Rogers, what’s going on? What does this have to do with me?”

“SHIELD is corrupt,” Natasha responded from across the room, “They’ve been taken over by an organization called HYDRA, they’re planning something big and we need your help to stop them.”

“They killed Fury?” you asked, Natasha nodded, your face darkened. You may not have known Fury very well, but he was your boss and he took care of you; you were itching for a bit of revenge, “What do you need me to do?”

“(F/N), you need to know, Nat and I…we’re considered fugitives by SHIELD. If you help us, you’ll be aiding criminals, if you’re caught you could be punished…” Steve began, making eye contact with you.

“ _If_ I’m caught,” you interrupted, “Steve, I’d love to see ‘em try and catch me.” You sat down on the couch, “Now, what’s the plan Cap?”

“We need to kidnap Jasper Sitwell…” Steve said, making his way to a chair.

“Sounds easy, what do you need me for?”

“…in broad daylight.”

“That may be a problem.”

——————————

“This is ridiculous,” you growled to yourself, waiting behind a line of cars at the entrance to Fort Meade. You were dressed in a green pencil skirt and a button-up khaki shirt, your service cap sat in the passenger seat on top of a black briefcase. With one hand on the wheel, the other thumbed a laminated ID card, you glanced at it idly. From underneath the plastic, your smile gleamed brightly, so much had changed since the day you took that photo, but somehow it was still the same.

The Firebird rumbled forward, at your command, coming to a stop at the gate.

“ID please,” the guard said, looking you over as you handed him the card, “What brings you here today Lieutenant (L/N)?” He asked before he slid it.

“Key Code: Alpha 3 Mike 6 2 Sierra Charlie Quebec,” you answered nonchalantly, not bothering to look him in the eye. He looked at you, then to the card, and began typing into the computer.

_”You seriously memorized all the Key Codes?” Turner gaped, “All of them? There’s like 50.”_

_“Yeah,” you shrugged, “Never know when you might need them.”_

_“You could get past security into the Pentagon with those.”_

_“I know,” you smirked_

“Understood,” the guard acknowledged, handing you back your card and pushing a button to open the barrier, “Your entry will be erased and cameras wiped, have a nice visit.”

“Thanks,” you said rolling up the window and pulling forward onto the base.

Your pumps clicked as you walked down the hallway to a nearby restroom. Making sure it was empty, you set your briefcase on one of the sinks and snapped it open. Opening a small compartment in the corner you took out an earwig and activated it. It made a short, quiet beep and you put it in your ear.

“Comm activated,” you said lowly, checking your reflection in the mirror and slicking back your hair, “I’m in.”

“Nice job, (F/N),” Natasha’s disembodied voice came through, “Let’s get started. The first gate is down the hall on your right, you have a new ID card in the briefcase that should get you through that one.”

“Got it,” you replied, swapping your old card for the new one and slipping it in your pocket. You closed the briefcase and walked out of the restroom. Doing as Natasha said you made your way to the first gate, two soldiers stood guard in front of a huge metal door. You walked up and stood at attention, pulling out the ID card and holding it out in front of you. One of the guards took a step forward and took the card from you, swiping it, and handing it back as the light turned green and the doors swooshed open.

“Lieutenant,” he approved, standing at attention. You nodded in thanks and swept past them. The doors slid shut and you glanced around; the area was mostly office spaces and there were some people bustling around the hallways from room to room, but they didn’t pay you any attention.

“First gate cleared,” you murmured and kept walking forward.

“Good, to get past the next gate we’re going to have to be a little fancier,” Nat said.

“How fancy?” you asked, striding ahead, noting the cameras mounted to the ceiling.

“There’s a device in your briefcase that I need you to plug into a computer and I’ll do the rest.

“Okay.”

You looked around the different offices, hoping to find an empty one. A third of the way down the hall there was a darkened office, you shook the doorknob, locked. Scanning the hall, you plucked a bobby pin from your hair and stuck it into the lock. In a record amount of time, the lock clicked and you opened the door. Peering inside, you caught a glimpse of a computer. You took a short look outside before walking in and closing the door behind you.

Setting your case on the desk, you opened it and found the device. It looked a lot like a flash drive, but with Stark Industries written on the side. You hummed a smile prior to sticking the drive into an open port.

“Alright, Romanoff, what next?”

“Give me a second,” she answered, a series of soft beeps came from her side of the line, “Good to go, next gate is to the left, you can use your card.”

You took the device out and exited the office. Turning left you came upon the second gate, this time there were four armed guards waiting for you.

“Halt,” one of the guards spoke, walking towards you. You stood at attention, keeping eye contact with him, “ID.”

You handed him the card which he handed over to another soldier. The card swiped clean and the doors opened.

“Sorry, about this Lieutenant, we’re going to have to pat you down,” he said, handing you back the card.

“Go ahead,” you responded.

“Shit, (L/N), the earpiece!” you heard Romanoff exclaim.

“You wearing a wire Lieutenant?” the guard asked, his hands moving towards his gun.

“Yes,” you asserted, “My Commanding Officer wants my unit connected at all times.”

“Who’s your C.O.?” he questioned, still holding his rifle.

“Commander Mikhail Weston,” you ad-libbed, “We’re shipping out to the Sand Pit tomorrow 0800, he wants some gear from the vault checked before it’s sent with us.”

The soldier eyed you one more time before stepping out of your way, “Good luck out there Lieutenant,” he said nodding to you.

“Thanks.”

You strode past the men and through the door; you could tell that they were still eyeing you as you walked, but you kept your head high until the doors slid shut.

“Clear,” you whispered, hearing a relieved sigh from the other end.

“You’re a good liar, Lieutenant,” Natasha responded with an acidic tone, “You do that often?”

“No,” you lied, “And it was the truth…once.”

“Right,” she chirped, a poisonous edge to her voice, “The third gate is three floors down, the elevator is straight ahead of you.”

_”Deploying to Iraq at 0800 tomorrow, pack up let’s get going crew,” Weston said from the head of the conference table, “Captain Gonzalez will give you the specs on our way there, dismissed soldiers.”_

The hallway had changed from simple offices to dark rooms with locked doors, no one was down on this level except for the cameras aimed in your direction. You entered the elevator, pressed the floor number Nat told you to and waited.

“This next door should be easy, just make sure not t—,” Nat began before the line went silent.

“Romanoff?” you spoke, your question met with silence. You groaned to yourself and took out the earpiece and deactivated it, putting it in your pocket. The elevator came to a steady stop, the doors opening smoothly. You stepped out and began preparing for what was coming next. As you rounded the corner you expected multiple soldiers to be stationed, but you were pleasantly surprised by a single guard standing before the door.

“ID, please,” he said outstretching his hand. You handed it to him and watched him inspect it before he slid it. For a few seconds, nothing happened and then a light flashed red. The guard’s brows furrowed and he tried again, the red light flicked on again. He glanced at you, reaching for his sidearm.

“Wait,” you blurted, “My card has been acting up lately, I have a key code if that would work better.” The guard relaxed a little and pulled out a small device that he plugged into the door.

“Code?”

“Tango Charlie 2 Romeo India 2 4 7,” you stated calmly, watching him type the code into the device. It beeped once before flashing a green light and opening the doors. “Damn card, I guess it’s time for a new one,” you smiled, masking your nerves.

“Good idea Lieutenant,” the guard stated, his eyes looking over you suspiciously, “It says here you need Commander Mikhail Weston’s approval.”

“Would you like me to call him?” you asked innocently, a dangerous look on your face beginning to grow, “He’s on the front lines in Iraq right now, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me calling for the third time today to get permission. My unit has been getting its ass kicked while I’ve been here trying to get into the damn vault for tech that will turn the tide in our favor! And you think I don’t have approval from my goddamned Commander? How the hell do you think I made it down here? By fluttering my lashes and flirting with the boys? I have a job to do, and I’d very much like to get it done so no more of my boys have to die overseas!”

The innocence you had feigned at the start had wrenched into molten anger as you fibbed your way into the vault. When you finished the guard moved aside, flustered by your outburst and his eyes wide in fear.

“Thank you,” you barked, sulking into the vault, “Where’s the EXO-7 Falcon harness?” you demanded, looking over your shoulder to the guard.

“Straight down on the left,” he answered quickly.

“Help me with it,” you ordered. Walking down the hallway to the harness. It was concealed in a secondary vault with a digital lock on it. You entered the code and the vault snapped open, revealing, at long last, the EXO-7. The guard was behind you in a matter of milliseconds with a cart to set it on.

He lifted it up gingerly and set it on the cart, “Where to Lieutenant?”

“My car.”

——————————

You waved to the guard as you exited Fort Meade, the EXO-7 Falcon safely in the trunk of the Firebird. You smirked to yourself, easy as pie. The guard asked no more questions and even helped you get past the rest of the gates and put the harness into your car. Cruising down the street you pulled out your phone a plugged in a number, it rang twice before being answered by an out of breath voice.

“(F/N), where are you? Are you okay?” Steve’s hurried voice came from the line.

“I’m fine,” you answered, “I got the suit and I’m on my way.”

“What happened? We lost you for a while.”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter,” you said taking your hair out of the tight bun it was in, “Is Sam ready to fly?”

“Yeah he’s ready, are you sure you’re okay? How’d you make it past the third gate?”

“Don’t worry about it, Captain. You got eyes on Sitwell?”

“Yeah he’s still in a meeting with the Senator, should be finishing up soon.”

“Good, I’ll see you in a few,” you clicked your phone off and tossed it into the passenger seat, “Time to fuck some shit up,” you smiled.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part of the Captain America - The Winter Soldier Movie! 
> 
> Lemme know what you guys thought!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	7. The Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m serious, Danny!” you yelled, as Turner began to bandage your head, “The dude had a metal arm.”
> 
> “There is absolutely no way that a guy could have had a metal arm that articulated like that, it’s not possible. You were just seeing things.” Danny said, looking through a magazine, “You hit your head really hard amor, estás viendo cosas.”
> 
> “No, no! He saw me, he shot me! He had a goddamn metal arm!” You whined, pushing Turner away.
> 
> “Cálmate, querida. Tell her, Doc, she hit her head too hard being a klutz,” Danny said, unfazed.
> 
> “You did hit your head pretty hard (F/N).”
> 
> You groaned and leaned back into your cot, “I’m serious, guys, I saw a dude with a metal arm. Un hombre con un brazo metálico!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate was used for anything not English, I apologize for any mistakes.

> “Semper Fidelis. For I was, am, and shall forever be a United States Marine”

——————————

You were leaning against the trunk of your car, still dressed in your uniform and fiddling with your keys when Steve and Natasha finally showed up in the alley you were parked in. Nodding your head in greeting as they got out of the car, you popped open the trunk revealing the harness you had obtained from Fort Meade. Gingerly, you took the EXO-7 out of the trunk and handed it off to Steve.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, we appreciate your help,” Steve said taking the wings from you and taking them to his car.

“Your work here is done (L/N),” Natasha stated monotonously, “Time for you to go home.”

You glanced at her as you grabbed a duffle bag, closed the trunk, and scoffed, “I don’t think so Agent Romanoff. When I start something I finish it, I’m not leaving now.”

“Lieutenant, it gets riskier from here on out. I don’t want you getting hurt in a battle you didn’t start,” Steve told you crossing his arms over his chest.

“I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to help you and you’re going to need the help if you're going to stop these guys. I can take care of myself, Captain. I’m with you guys until this is over,” you responded almost immediately.

Steve opened his mouth to argue with you but stopped when he locked eyes with you. You weren’t backing down now and he could see that he gave you a small grin and shook his head before walking towards the fire escape on the side of the building.

“In that case, you might want this,” Natasha handed you a black case, “It’s a TAC-338 rifle, equipped with a laser sight and—“

“I don’t need a laser to tell me where to shoot,” you interrupted.

“I know,” She began again, irritably, “It’s more for theatrics than anything. Just put the little red dot on the bald man’s chest.”

She jabbed the case at you, “Whatever you say, _Boss_ ,” you said, snatching the case from her and following Steve up the fire escape he had lowered down.

He led you up the side of the building and into one of the top floors.

“Nat, take the car around to the extraction point,” Steve called over his shoulder, she was gone by the time you turned around. Steve busted open a door and motioned for you to enter.

“Lieutenant?” He asked as you passed him and looked around the room.

It was an old storage room that hadn’t been entered in years. There were three windows facing the building Sitwell’s meeting was taking place and filtering in dusty light. You noted that there was only the one exit: out the door and down the fire escape; not appropriate for a sniper’s nest, but it would work.

“Yeah?” You asked, setting down the gun case and your duffle bag, looking over the room a little longer.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” you answered, returning to your duffle bag and unzipping it, “Don’t look.” You said pulling out your extra clothes.

He paused to look at you a second before nodding his head and turning away from you, “How did you get past the third gate?”

You stopped unbuttoning your blouse, and glanced at him prior to answering him, “I got lucky,” You mentally kicked yourself at your lousy excuse as you shrugged off the blouse and pulling a grey long sleeve over your head.

“I made up a story about my Commanding Officer already submitting the paperwork for the transfer of the harness to the Pentagon and being pissed about not having it yet. Luckily the guy had heard of my C.O. and understood what I was talking about,” you lied, slipping on a pair of jeans, “You can turn around now.”

“Your C.O. was that bad?” Steve asked, turning around as you tied your hair back into a braid.

“He had a nasty reputation, most recruits didn’t make it through his training, but once you got to know him he wasn’t half bad.”

You laced up a pair of black combat boots, hoping your lie would stick, you glanced up at Steve who nodded in approval.

“Who was your C.O.?” Natasha’s voice came from the entrance, “Sam is waiting for you,” she said to Steve. He hummed in understanding and ducked out the door, leaving just you and Natasha.

“Captain Daniel Gonzalez,” you lied as Steve left, clicking open the case to expose the black, disassembled TAC-338.

“Never heard of him,” Natasha growled, leaning against the wall opposite you, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring down at you.

“You got a problem, Romanoff?” You questioned as you began to assemble the rifle, glancing up at her.

“Yeah I do,” she declared, pushing off the wall and strolling towards you, “You were too smooth in Fort Meade, too quick with the lies. I don’t think you are who you say you are. What did you do in the war?”

“I was a mechanic for a caravan in Afghanistan,” you answered, keeping eye contact.

“Why are you such a good shot?”

“My Uncle was a sniper in Vietnam, he basically raised me and taught me everything he knew.” Your attention turned back to the rifle.

“How did you get on Fury’s radar?” She interrogated, watching you click the bolt forward and check the chamber.

“I don’t know,” you answered, honestly, “I took a Sniper Scout Training Test when I was deployed and when my base was attac—wait. Where are you going with this? What do you mean you don’t think I am who I am?”

“I think you ran Black Ops,” she said, ever so nonchalantly checking over her nails. She looked you over again, like a predator to prey, waiting for you to screw up.

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed and paused for a second before widening your eyes in faked bewilderment. She stared at you unmoved. “You _are_ kidding…right?”

She shook her head, red hair covering her eyes. “Don’t play with me Lieutenant.” she yapped, eyes darkening, “The way you talk, the way you move, it doesn’t add up to you just being a ‘mechanic’.”

“No,” you snarled, clicking the magazine into the 338, “I move the way I do because of how I was trained in boot camp and how long I was deployed. I talk the way I do because that’s how you are taught to talk over the radio. I ain’t sayin’ I wouldn’t have done Black Ops, but that wasn’t an option for me or any other female that I served with. When I served women weren’t allowed to go to the front lines, let alone do Black Ops missions. It didn’t matter how talented a girl was, we weren’t allowed into combat, but that didn’t mean that combat didn’t come to us. When I was stationed at a little outpost base in Afghanistan we were ambushed. I took seven bullets, and took 30 of those assholes down with me, but not before they took the lives of my boys away from me. That’s probably how I got on Fury’s radar,” you paused, taking a shaky breath and looking away from her, “I’m sorry Romanoff, but you got me all wrong.”

There wasn’t an answer from her, but you could still feel her presence. You snapped on the scope with laser sight onto the gun and clicked it on, pointing it at a wall. When it lit up with the tiny red dot, you turned off the sight and set down the weapon. You stood and straightened your shirt, untucking your dog tags from beneath it. Romanoff moved from where she was and stood in front of you, eye to eye.

“I don’t know what you’re hiding, Lieutenant, but believe me, when I say, I will find out.”

You locked eyes with her as she looked you over once more before walking away from you to the window in the corner.

“Sitwell will be coming out of the building any minute. Sam will contact him, all you need to do is scare him, don’t shoot him. We’ll take care of the rest, here’s another earwig, don’t go offline this time,” she glared at you once more before leaving the room.

“Go ahead, Natalia,” you murmured under your breath, “Find what you can.”

——————————

_“Aftermath is Top Secret; the President, DOD, FBI, even the CIA don’t know we exist. And our Operation will remain secret even after we’re all dead. Anyone who gets to close to us is a security risk and must be dealt with accordingly,” Weston ordered from his chair in the conference room._

_“Sir, what exactly do you mean ‘dealt with accordingly’?” Danny asked._

_“Eliminated,” Weston said simply._

_“And by ‘eliminated’ you mean what?” Turner quizzed, looking up from the files he was reading._

_“He means kill ‘em,” you answered, twirling a pencil with your fingers, “and make it look like an accident.”_

_“You learn fast, Lieutenant,” Weston praised grimly._

_“I try, Sir.”_

_“Even after you’ve been discharged, this will apply. Anyone who gets nosy you get rid of. Family, friends, strangers, doesn’t matter. So become good liars to cut down on unnecessary casualties. Understood?”_

_“Yes, Sir.”_

_“Good, now suit up, we’re headed for Istanbul.”  
_

——————————

“And why would I do that?” A voice crackled through the comms.

“Because that tie looks really expensive,” Sam started, that was your cue. Flicking on the laser you lined up your target, “And I’d hate to mess it up.”

You watched as Jasper Sitwell’s face dropped and he nodded quickly moving around the corner and getting in Sam’s car. Lowering the rifle, you felt your phone vibrate. Plucking it out of your pocket you looked at a message from an unknown number.

**Pick up Sam & meet us.**

You picked up your duffel bag and the gun case and strode out the door. By the time you made it down the fire escape, Sam had rounded the corner.

“Nice job Flyboy,” you smiled, putting your things in the back seat, “Hop in.”

“Thanks, I feel like a real spy right now, don’t you?” He gave you a toothy grin and hopping into the passenger seat.

You shook your head and brought the Firebird to life. Sam nodded in approval to the sound of the engine as you revved it into the street.

“Watch our backs while we take care of him,” Steve ordered when you showed up at their location. He turned to follow Natasha who was pushing Sitwell into the building, “And help Sam get suited up.” He called over his shoulder before disappearing into the building.

Popping the trunk, Sam began taking out the EXO-7. You took it from him and he took off his leather jacket and sunglasses to replace them with a pair of goggles.

“You ready for this Birdboy?” you asked as he turned and you lifted the harness onto his back.

“Hell yeah,” he said, turning to you, you quirked an eyebrow, “Nah, I’m scared shitless,” he answered truthfully, giving you a small smile as you tightened one of the straps on his chest.

“Don’t be, fly in like you own the place,” you recommended patting his shoulder.

“You know Lieutenant, I’ve been meaning to ask you something all day.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you the Lieutenant (L/N) that kicked ass on the Afghanistan base? Like sniper style, shootin’ shit and you took like 15 bullets?”

“It was seven.”

“Huh?”

“I took seven bullets that day, not 15,” you shrugged.

“So it was you?” His eyes widened as you nodded, “Wow, you’re like a legend over there. I mean they tell stories, but they never said you were so…so…”

“…So?” you asked as he trailed off.

“Pretty.” He answered looking away from you.

“You flirting with me Soldier?” You asked crossing your hands over your chest.

“I just tell ‘em like I see ‘em.” He stated giving a small smile.”

“Whatever,” you shook your head.

“I’m serious, I think you’re really real—.”

You cut him off with your index finger when a voice came over your earwig.

“I was throwing up, I get seasick,” Sitwell’s loud, nasally voice came through. There was a pained shout before he spoke again, “It this display meant to insinuate you’re gonna throw me off the roof?”

“You’re on Sam,” you said, “Good luck.”

He smiled and the small engines in his wings kicked on before he disappeared in a rush of air.

“Because it’s really not your style, Rogers.”

“You’re right it’s not…It’s hers.”

You looked up to see Sitwell’s flailing body plummeting down towards the street and you smirked. Out of nowhere, Sam swooped in grabbing Sitwell out of the sky.

“Nice one, Turkey-man,” you smiled.

“Shut up (F/N),” Sam’s voice came through.

“Zola’s algorithm is a program…for choosing Insight’s targets!”

“What targets?” You heard Steve growl.

“You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, an Ex-Marine Lieutenant here in D.C., Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA! Now or in the future,” Sitwell rattled off.

You stopped listening as Steve continued to question Sitwell.

_“So how exactly does Aerocell work?” You asked as Ollie began transferring the program from the thumb drive Weston had stolen onto another terminal._

_“It monitors who or what you want it to and it makes a pattern out of it. We can monitor our troops and our enemies and beat them to where they wanna go. Heck, we could even monitor people with it and identify threats.”_

_“Yeah…but how? How does it know?”_

_“I don’t know, it was outfitted with some sort of algorithm one of those crazy scientists in the lab came up with,” he shrugged._

“Lieutenant, we’re heading down, start the car,” Natasha commanded into the earpiece.

“Right,” you answered in a daze, opening Sam’s car and turning over the engine.

_Ex-Marine Lieutenant here in D.C._

You opened the trunk and leaned against the car.

_Anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA._

“That’s me, right? They see me as a threat?” you questioned yourself, “Why? What did I do? I haven’t even heard of HYDRA before today! I don’t underst—,” you paused in realization.

Columbia.

“Hey! Devildog! Did you see what I did?” a voice over your head called, you shook yourself out of the daze.

“Yeah Pigeon-dude,” you called back, painting a smile on your face.

Sam landed right in front of you with a blast of air. The wings of his suit folded in and began to power down, he took off his goggles, “Did you see his face! Priceless!”

“It was awesome Chicken-guy,” you smirked.

“No, no, no. I’m not just any bird, I am the Falcon!” he exclaimed, as you began helping him unstrap from his harness.

“Whatever you say Toucan-Sam.”

“Very funny,” he deadpanned, “How many of those you got?”

“Too many,” you grinned, helping him lift the harness into the trunk.

——————————

“Our timeframe is changing,” a young agent stated, handing over a file to the man, “And she’s with the Captain and Romanoff.”

“Oh Lieutenant, I didn’t want to do this to you, but…” He stopped, contemplating for a moment, “Borrow the Asset, bring her in…now.”

——————————

“I went to your exhibit at the Smithsonian, Rogers,” You said, looking out the window at the cars passing by, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thanks, (F/N),” Steve replied, not looking at you, “It’s been weird without him here.”

You nodded in understanding, thinking of all the friends you had lost before a nasally voice interrupted your thoughts.

“HYDRA doesn’t like leaks,” Sitwell whined. He was sitting in the middle of the backseat, sandwiched between you and Natasha as Sam sped down the interstate.

“Then you should probably shut up,” you scowled, playing with your dog tags, “Insight is launching in 16 hours.”

“We’re cutting it a bit close here,” Natasha said glancing up at Steve in the front seat.

“I know,” Steve answered, his brows furrowing.

“You can use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly,” you responded, gazing out the window. You felt eyes on you and turned to find Natasha, Steve, and Sitwell staring at you, “What? I built the damn things, I know how to get in.”

“What? Are you crazy? Who are you?” Sitwell cried.

“I’m the ‘Ex-Marine Lieutenant that lives in D.C.’,” you snarled, his eyes widened as you quoted him, “But let’s get one thing straight, there ain’t no such thing as an ex-marine.”

“You’re crazy! This is a terrible, terrible idea.”

“Put a cork in it dude,” Sam chimed in from the front seat.

Out of nowhere, a thump on the roof caused you and everyone else to look up. The shattering of the back window made you duck forward and suddenly Sitwell was gone, thrown out of the car by something you only caught a glimpse of. A metal arm.

You and Nat glanced at each other, you quickly pushed her into the front seat and a millisecond later, a bullet shot through the roof to where she had been. She pulled Steve forward as a bullet flew through his headrest and you reached up from behind Sam’s seat, pushing him to the side as another bullet was loosed. Steve reached forward grabbing the E-Brake and slamming it forward. The car came to an abrupt halt, your eyes flashed upwards just in time to see a body go flying through the air and land on the interstate.

Sparks flew as his metal arm contacted with the pavement, trying to slow himself down.

“Oh my God,” you whispered.

_“I’m serious, Danny!” you yelled, as Turner began to bandage your head, “The dude had a metal arm.”_

_“There is absolutely no way that a guy could have had a metal arm that articulated like that, it’s not possible. You were just seeing things.” Danny said, looking through a magazine, “You hit your head really hard amor, estás viendo cosas.”_

_“No, no! He saw me, he shot me! He had a goddamn metal arm!” You whined, pushing Turner away._

_“Cálmate, querida. Tell her, Doc, she hit her head too hard being a klutz,” Danny said, unfazed._

_“You did hit your head pretty hard (F/N).”_

_You groaned and leaned back into your cot, “I’m serious, guys, I saw a dude with a metal arm. Un hombre con un brazo metálico!”_

“Un hombre con un brazo metálico, the Winter Soldier” you breathed.

He came to a halt and stood slowly, menacingly. Cars swerved out of his way, tires screeched as they turned to avoid Sam’s car and Natasha raised a gun from inside her jacket as you glanced behind you.

“Sam! Move the ca—,” you yelled as you realized a vehicle that was not swerving to miss you. You were cut off by the impact of the vehicle with yours and your body lurching forward hitting the back of Sam’s seat as he attempted to keep control of his car.

Before you realized it there was another thump on the roof as the Soldier jumped onto the car again. Sam hit the brakes again, but the vehicle behind you kept pushing your car forward. Glass shattered again as a metal hand came crashing through the windshield and seized the steering wheel from Sam.

“Shit!” Sam yelped as the wheel disappeared from his hands and he lost control of the vehicle. Natasha let off a couple rounds into the roof, but by then the soldier was gone. The vehicle behind you backed off, making Sam’s car swerve across other lanes of traffic, then it was back again. Ramming into the back of the car making it hit the concrete median strip.

“Go! Go!” You yelled quickly as the car began to roll, “Steve get them out of here!” You grabbed onto Sam’s shoulders and pushed him sideways into Steve and Natasha.

“(F/N)!” Sam shouted and reached for you as the door gave way without you and they escaped. You curled up between the back and front seats and closed your eyes as the car twirled in the air.

——————————

_“What next Commander? Where we headed?” Danny asked over the roar of the Humvee’s engine._

_“New York, we gotta clean up some loose ends.”_

_“Awesome! We’re going back to the States!” You cheered._

_“Commander there seems to be a problem with the radio…it just went out. I’m not getting a signal,” Oliver said, tapping away on his computer._

_Your face dropped slightly, “Ollie what’s going on?”_

_“Our signal is being jammed! I don’t know what’s going on.”_

_“Stop the car,” you said, “Sir! We need to stop this vehicle now!”_

_“Lieutenant, what’s going on?” Turner asked._

_“It’s an ambu—.”_

_The Humvee rolled, glass shattered, muffled cries echoed in your head, and then it all went quiet._

_——————————_

The sharp rat-a-tat of machine gun fire brought you back to reality. You were curled up on the ceiling of Sam’s car blanketed in glass. Groaning you began slowly getting up when a series of bullets ripped through the car. You rolled over, quickly sliding through a window and finding cover behind a silver van.

“Romanoff!” you yelled, catching sight of the red-head trying to find cover and fire back at them. She glanced at you and tossed you one of her pistols. You checked the chamber before exchanging fire with the men with machine guns. The Winter Soldier was in front of them leading them slowly towards your position, grenade launcher in hand.

“Sam, Nat, move out, I’ll cover,” you howled, moving away from the van and lining up a shot. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam begin running, but Natasha stayed by your side. “Damn it, Romanoff.”

She leaned out from behind the van and took a shot at the Soldier. He didn't flinch, instead he raised the weapon in his hand a pulled the trigger. Both you and Natasha ducked out of the way as the van exploded, you towards a car opposite to you and Natasha over the median into oncoming traffic. You saw Natasha vault over the side of the overpass as the Winter Soldier fired the launcher again. He dropped the launcher and one of his men handed him a machine gun.

You ran from your cover and one of the men with machine guns let out a few short bursts before you disappeared over the side, clinging to a concrete column and sliding down to the ground below.

“He’s going after Rogers,” Natasha called to you as you caught up with her.

“Take a shot, draw him out, then split up, I’ll watch your six,” you instructed as she took a single shot at the Soldier and quickly moved from where she was. He disappeared over the side for a second.

“Oh shit,” you breathed, bewildered, “She got him.”

A wave of relief washed over you until it was shattered by him popping up again and letting out a long barrage of bullets where she had been, he was pissed. You popped off a few rounds from the pistol she had given you to draw his attention and then began moving behind a line of cars parked along the street.

“Fuck! Romanoff, come on!” You grabbed her arm as you ran past her and ducked behind the cars.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said, taking out her phone, “You got my back right?”

“Yeah, I got you.”

“Split up, now!” She yelled, turning to see the Soldier in pursuit. You disappeared from her side quickly turning down another street, but keeping an eye on Natasha.

She dropped her phone behind a car and covered behind another car, watching as the Soldier stopped and rolled a small explosive to where her phone was spitting out random commands. The following explosion rocked the streets and provided enough of a distraction for Natasha to try and jump him. He threw her off of him and onto another car with ease.

“Natasha move!” You yelled from the position you had taken up outside a large building. You shot a couple of times at him while she tossed a small device at his arm, making it short out for a moment before he tore it off. She ran toward the building you were outside while you covered her back and then followed her into the streets again.

“Get out of the way!” She exclaimed as she passed civilians still in the streets, “Stay out of the way!”

“Nat! Hit the deck!” You cried. A pained cry escaped her lips as a bullet tore through her shoulder. You grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down to crouch behind a car, she scanned the street behind you, trying to figure out where the soldier had disappeared to.

“Romanoff?” You asked pressing a hand against her shoulder trying to stop the bleeding, she didn’t answer, “Natasha? You okay?”

“Yeah…yeah,” she stuttered out of breath.

“Give me your gun,” you ordered holding out your hand.

“It’s spent, I don’t have any more rounds,” she whispered, still trying to find where the Soldier was.

“Just give me your gun,” you said, she looked at you in confusion before handing it to you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement and the glint of metal in the sun.

“Stay down Nat,” you instructed, grabbing her hand and pressing it to where yours had been on her wound. You wiped her blood on your pants, leaving a sticky, crimson residue on your hand as you clutched the pistol to your chest and peeked over the hood of the car.

You caught movement again as the Soldier leaped from where he was hiding and onto the roof of a car, raising his gun toward you. In a wrench of your arm, you flung the empty firearm at his face and launched yourself forward. As predicted he flinched out of the way, giving you time to sprint towards him and tackle him around his middle and off the car.

Hitting him was like sprinting into a brick wall, luckily he gave, and you both went tumbling down onto the pavement. You knocked away the gun he had and wound up for a punch to his face. He caught your fist with his metal arm and yanked it away from him. Sweeping one of his legs around your waist, he flipped you onto your back, gaining the upper hand for only a second.

Before he could get a good hold on you, you brought your knee to your chest and connected one of you boot-clad feet to his face and rolled over your shoulder away from him. Twirling around on your heel, you brought your fists up in a fighting stance.

“Let’s dance, Soldier,” you quipped as he rose to his feet, “Come on let’s see what you’ve got.”

He glared at you, blue eyes narrowing to slits as he lunged at you. You dodged a punch from his human arm and grabbed it, getting it out of the way while bringing up your leg and kicking him in the stomach. Muffled grunts escaped his muzzled mouth before he seized your leg with his metal hand. He hurled you off of him by your leg causing you to land on a nearby car with enough force to shatter the window. You rolled off the car rapidly, barely avoiding being hit by his metal hand.

He was still recovering from that punch when you decided to do something stupid, put him in a chokehold. One of your arms wrapped around his neck, while the other snaked around his head and clenched a handful of hair. It was embarrassing how easily and quickly he got out of your hold. He stepped backward into a squat and gripped your leg lifting you up and then sending you crashing down to the asphalt.

You landed on your back, feeling multiple bones make a ‘popping’ sound. Rolling onto your stomach you attempted to get back on your feet, only to find that the Soldier was going to return the favor. His metal arm curved around your neck and tugged you back into his chest. On instinct, both your hands went flying to his arm trying to pry it off. When that didn’t work, you resorted to elbowing him in the stomach and then yanking him forward and over your head.

Gasping for air, you began planning your next move, until you felt a small pain in the back of your neck. One of your hands shot back to your neck, trying to identify the pain. The Soldier rose from the ground and that’s when you saw it, a small syringe filled with God knows what, as he stuck it back into his pocket.

“What did you do?” You choked, still catching your breath.

He began to approach you, you backed away while the world began to spin. You hadn't realized how far your fight had taken you from Natasha and how much shit you were in.

“What did you do?” You repeated, trying to shake off the effects of the drug, “Что вы наделали (Chto vy nadelali)?” _What have you done?_

"Они хотят, чтобы вы живы (Oni khotyat, chtoby vy zhivy),” The Soldier’s muffled voice stated coldly. _They want you alive._

You took a shaky breath as your vision dimmed and your legs gave out from underneath you. As your legs gave way, you braced for impact with the pavement that never came. A strong arm curled around your waist and lifted you up from the ground.

The screeching of car tires, being gently laid into the back of a car, and hearing voices say something about getting the other two were the last things you heard before everything went black.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of the Captain America - The Winter Soldier movie!!
> 
> Glad you made it!
> 
> Lemme know what you thought! And if you caught any mistakes!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/28/2018 - Format Match, Grammar Check, & Continuity Rewrite


	8. The Fall of SHIELD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my God,” you whispered, quietly enough for no one to hear, you’d seen him in the Smithsonian…he was supposed to be dead.
> 
> “You met him earlier this week on another assignment,” Pierce answered simply. The Soldier gazed Pierce up and down, a look of disbelief upon his face.
> 
> “I know him,” the Soldier stated, sadly. Pierce pulled up a chair to sit in front of the soldier.
> 
> “Bucky Barnes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**: There will be profanity :)
> 
>  
> 
> [YouTube Music Link](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwxg9JXtGAUCdab9aFWIgQDU3aMcBKWqu)

 

> “Don’t fuck with someone who is willing to die in combat.”

——————————

_“What next Commander? Where we headed?” Danny asked over the roar of the Humvee’s engine._

_“New York, we’ve gotta clean up some loose ends.”_

_“Awesome! We’re going back to the States!” You cheered._

_“Commander there seems to be a problem with the radio…it just went out. I’m not getting a signal,” Oliver said, tapping away on his computer._

_Your face dropped slightly, “Ollie what’s going on?”_

_“Our signal is being jammed! I don’t know what happened.”_

_“Stop the car,” you said, “Sir! We need to stop this vehicle now!”_

_“Lieutenant, what’s going on?” Turner asked._

_“It’s an ambu—.”_

_The Humvee rolled and glass shattered all over you. Thank God you were strapped in. The vehicle landed on its wheels making it an easy escape._

_“Let’s go! Go now!” Danny yelled._

_“Ollie grab my rifle!” You hollered over the sound of gunfire outside the transport. He tossed it to you and you busted open the door, stepping out into the mayhem._

_“Move, move!” You commanded, “Troops take cover!”_

_“Captain, talk to me,” Weston’s voice roared through the chaos._

_“I got Tangos coming from all sides, heavily armed, took down two trucks already,” Danny responded, ducking out of the way of an oncoming barrage of bullets._

_“Dig in, soldiers, kick some ass,” Weston replied simply._

_“There are troops under heavy fire on the Delta Transport, that’s three trucks ahead of us,” Oliver called, his hands to his headphones trying to get a better read._

_“(F/N) take point, I got secondary, fall in behind,” Danny ordered, “Move out, let’s go.”_

_“Walsh get the gear,” Weston barked at the Private and he scurried away grabbing his computer and any other important tech._

_You slung your rifle over your back and grabbed a machine gun from a fallen comrade. Taking the lead you walked out from behind your cover and began working your way forward. The dust began to pick up and the smoke was thickening. Out of nowhere, a group of five men emerged from the dust, weapons raised. You cut them down easily with the gun in your hands and continued forward._

_“Gonzalez watch your six!” Weston exclaimed, firing a few rounds to eliminate the other enemies._

_When you finally reached the Delta Transport, there weren’t many troops left to help, but you took cover with them and fired back at the enemy. Danny and you were crouched behind the same Humvee when a single shout silenced the whole battlefield._

_“Incoming!”_

_The blast was deafening, the heat was searing, and the pain that ran through your body was horrendous. You were on your back, the frame of the vehicle pinning down your legs, you hadn’t been in that much pain before until you looked to the left and it became ten times worse._

_The lifeless burned body of Captain Daniel Gonzalez lay beside you, unmoving. There was still a ringing in your ears from the blast, you were virtually deaf, but the sound that came out of your mouth at that moment you swore you could hear in your nightmares._

_Your screams faded out with your strength, turning into choked sobs and intense coughing fits. The smoke from the explosion lingered and covered the ground like a thick veil. Short bursts of gunfire continued all around you while you tried to lift yourself to a sitting position. Grabbing onto the Humvee, you attempted to lift it off of yourself, which failed miserably. You collapsed to the ground a whimpering heap, trembling as your legs began to throb._

_“Lieutenant?” A loud voice came through the smoke, “Johnson, cover me!”_

_“Commander?” You tried to whisper, your throat worn raw._

_“(L/N), get up!” He ordered from outside your peripheral._

_“I-I can’t,” you cried, “I’m pinned!”_

_From your right, Weston emerged, looking a little worse for wear. He was covered in dust and black blast marks._

_“Oh, girlie, let’s get you outta here,” he said softly, moving towards you with arms outstretched._

_His motion was cut off by a volley of bullets from behind you, you let out another piercing scream. Weston fell to his knees, his eyes beginning to glass over, with one last forced breath he crumpled to the ground. When he fell, a silence overtook the battlefield, the only sound left was your ragged breaths as you attempted to calm yourself down. You were alone now, if only for a short while. Your irregular breaths were soon joined by the rhythmic stepping of boots through the sand. A whimper left your mouth again as you waited for another person to emerge, surely you would be the next to die._

_From behind you, an arm slipped around your waist helping you to sit up. You couldn’t tell who it was, friend or foe until an arm moved from behind you towards the wrecked vehicle. A gasp escaped your mouth as a metallic arm gripped the Humvee and began to lift it. With the arm around your waist, he pulled you out from underneath the transport and into his chest, dropping the vehicle as soon as your legs were clear._

_“What’re you doin’,” you slurred, vision unfocused._

_“Они хотят, чтобы вы живы (Oni khotyat, chtoby vy zhivy),” the man’s muffled voice said, beginning to pick you up._

 ——————————

 

You woke up with a start, attempting to jump out of the seat you were in, only to find your wrists cuffed behind your back. Blinking a few times until your vision returned, you found yourself in a dark room, a high pitched whirring sound met your ears. You looked up, trying to identify the sound, only to come face to face with intense blue eyes on an unmasked, emotionless face. He stared into you as if looking into your soul until you realized you had seen that stare before. The Thousand Yard Stare. You glanced him over and came to find he was seated in some type of machine getting his arm repaired and…he looked familiar.

One of his eyes twitched and a second later, he sent one of the men working on his mechanical arm flying across the room. The clicking of guns filled your ears, you hadn’t noticed being surrounded by armed guards. The Soldier was breathing heavily and his muscles tensed as he looked around the room before making eye contact with you. _I know his face._

“Welcome, Lieutenant,” an accented voice came behind you, “It has been quite a long time.”

You whipped your head around violently. You knew that voice, no question about it.

_“Come along Lieutenant, just tell me what I wish to know. I’ll stop the pain, just tell me.”_

Dr. Merek Novak, with his signature grey business suit, salt and peppered hair, and glasses hanging off the end of his long, bird-like nose.

_“My name is Dr. Novak,” he smiled, “I’m going to take care of you now.”_

“You motherfucking, dick-headed bastard,” you groaned, “I thought I’d killed you.”

“Oh no, Lieutenant,” he crooned, coming to stand in front of you, “I do appreciate the attempt though, I know you tried your hardest.”

_Another explosion sounded as you sprinted down the hall of a bunker as it began to cave in._

_“Lieutenant, you can run, but you can’t hide!” A singsong voice came from behind you._

“Apparently not hard enough,” you sighed, looking past him and towards the Soldier, still trying to place him. Jagged burn marks bordered skin to metal, from where the molten arm had been fused to his body.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?” Merek asked, circling around to the back of the chair and putting his hands on your shoulders, “A work of art really.”

You didn’t answer, instead, looking around the room for an escape.

“Strong, smart, loyal,” he continued, squeezing your shoulders.

“If you like him so much you should marry him,” you said unfazed, Merek gave out a snorted laugh.

“I do not think so,” he snorted, patting your head lightly which made you flinch, “But I think you two would be perfect partners.”

“I don’t need a sadistic, shithead like you to play matchmaker for me.”

“Oh, but Lieutenant, you don’t have a choice,” he smiled, flicking your ear as another man came into the room.

The guards still had guns pointed at the Soldier as Alexander Pierce marched into the room. He put his hands up and shook his head at the guards, who lowered their weapons. The clanking of a door grabbed your attention and you finally figured out where you were: a bank vault.

“Mission report,” Pierce ordered, there was no response from the Soldier, who had finally relaxed and resumed his thousand-yard stare, “Mission report, now.”

Again, the Soldier didn’t respond. An itching feeling started in the back of your mind…so familiar. Pierce approached the Soldier, a frustrated look on his face as he bent down to see eye to eye with the man. Out of nowhere, he lifted his arm and backhanded the Soldier across the face. You flinched as the sound of the slap echoed around the room and the Soldier let out a groan.

“The man on the bridge,” the Soldier said, pausing, “Who was he?”

Your eyes narrowed, that voice…that face—

“Oh my God,” you whispered, quietly enough for no one to hear, you’d seen him in the Smithsonian…he was supposed to be dead.

“You met him earlier this week on another assignment,” Pierce answered simply. The Soldier gazed Pierce up and down, a look of disbelief on his face.

“I know him,” the Soldier stated, sadly. Pierce pulled up a chair to sit in front of the soldier.

“Have you figured it out yet, Lieutenant?” Merek asked, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“Bucky Barnes,” you answered, not taking your eyes off of him.

“Very good,” he hummed.

“Your work has been a gift to mankind,” Pierce began loudly, “You shaped this century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos.”

“What did they do to him?” You questioned, your voice barely making a sound.

“Tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push,” Pierce continued, “But if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves,”

“The same thing I’m going to do to you,” Merek answered simply, your eyes widened as you turned to him.

“But, I knew him,” the Soldier—no—Bucky replied, a dark sadness in his eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes was a genius on the battlefield,” Merek whispered in your ear again, “Like a cat hunting a mouse, so…how do you whittle out the man he was and leave the skills intact?”

“Prep him,” Pierce commanded.

“He’s been out of cryo-freeze too long,” one of the scientists said.

“H-How?” you muttered, fear beginning to creep into your system.

“Then wipe him and start over,” Pierce stated simply.

“Watch.”

Two scientists stepped forward, grabbing Bucky by each shoulder and pushing him down into the machine. They put a metal bit into his mouth and pressed a button that restrained him to the chair.

“No,” you whimpered, for the first time in years you were absolutely helpless.

His chest began to heave as the machine lowered itself to cover his face.

“No,” you ordered, your voice gaining more power as anger began to bubble up, “Stop it. Merek, don’t hurt him.”

“Too late,” Merek cooed, “And…you didn’t say please.”

You glanced at him bewildered and then back to Bucky as the machine began to emit electricity. He let out a small whimper before the machine clutched his face and he let out pained screams. You closed your eyes and looked away.

“No, no, no, darling,” Merek sang, “Watch.”

He grabbed your head and forced it around, you clenched your eyes shut.

“It’s beautiful, no?” He asked over the sounds of Bucky’s cries, “Brainwashing at its finest!”

Within a few minutes it was over, and you opened your eyes. Merek’s hands left your face as the machine began releasing itself from Bucky and the restraints let him go.

What was left of the sad, confused, almost Bucky Barnes before was gone, replaced by a hardened killer as he once again became the Winter Soldier. With a few commands he was gone, swept out of the vault with a group of guards and you were alone.

Merek ran his hands up your arms and to your shoulders again, giving them a tight squeeze.

“You’ll be just like that in 48 hours. Complacent, compliant, our newest Asset. I’m only sorry we couldn’t have done it sooner,” he smiled, patting your shoulders again, “Welcome to HYDRA, Ghost.”

He turned from you with a twirl, beginning to depart.

“Make sure she behaves herself,” he grinned sweetly at the guards as he disappeared from the vault.

You groaned to yourself as soon as you were sure he was gone. He had done this to you before, threatened you and then danced out of the room on cloud nine just to watch you burn. The problem was, he always followed through with his threats, and made sure you suffered as much as possible; he was heartless that way.

Merek Novak had done terrible things to you and there was one thing you were absolutely sure of at that moment, you weren’t going to let him gain any more satisfaction from you. You weren’t going to let him hurt you again, you weren’t going to end up his brainwashed slave, you were going to fight back.

Glancing around the room, you began to come up with a game plan. Upon that glance, you knew five things:

1.) There was one way in and one way out, and it was currently locked from the outside.

2.) Four guards were stationed in the room with you, all were armed and looked like they’d had some sort of military training.

3.) You were currently handcuffed to a chair with your hands behind your back.

4.) You had gotten out of worse situations.

and 5.) There was no way in hell they stood a chance against you.

You took a deep breath and relaxed back into the chair, chuckling lightly to yourself and catching the attention of one of the guards.

“What?” He demanded, striding towards you angrily.

“Nothin’,” you grinned, “I’m just thinkin’ ‘bout how I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Right,” he scoffed shaking his head and leaning down towards you, “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“I was thinking about starting it with something like this,” you began, bending forward to him.

With a quick and sudden motion, you whipped your head into his, head-butting him. The guard stumbled backward, his hands covering his face as maroon colored liquid seeped through his fingers from his crushed nose. Another guard rushed forward and with the butt of his gun struck you across the head. He grabbed the collar of your shirt and threw you across the room with ease. You scurried against the wall away from the guard, a smirk growing on you face. The three unharmed guards had their firearms raised at you as the other guard danced around the room in agony.

“I honestly can’t believe you fell for that one!” You exclaimed.

“Shut up,” he snarled and then began calling for someone to come unlock the gate.

You relaxed against the wall for a moment until you heard footsteps moving down the corridor and you poised for your next move.

“Whoever did these cuffs needs to be fired,” you stated loudly.

“Really?” the broken-nosed guard groaned when he heard your voice again.

“Rule number 32,” you said, positioning one of your hands around the other thumb.

“What’s rule 32?” He asked as the man with keys began unlocking the vault.

“Never handcuff anyone in a seated position with their hands behind their back.

“Why’s that?” He asked as the gate was swung open, masking the sound of your thumb slipping out of joint and your wrist slipping out of one of the cuffs.

“Makes it impossible to see their hands,” you shrugged with a smile.

Whipping out your hand you rushed forward and tackled the closest guard to you, grabbing a knife from his belt. Flipping the knife from handle to blade, you threw it at the man opening the gate and then returned to the guards. Rolling off the guard you had tackled, you avoided a couple shots that another guard loosed. You kicked him in the knee and proceeded to steal his pistol, while you were doing so the first guard came behind you and attempted to put you in a chokehold. Firing twice you shot the second guard before moving to get out of the hold you were in. Leaning forward and sweeping your leg around his you fell backward.

Pulling up the pistol you fired at the third guard as he sprinted towards you and downed him before turning your attention to the last two guards. You elbowed the guard you were laying on to stun him for a couple seconds while you turned to aim at the broken-nosed guard.

You felt the cold metal from the muzzle of a pistol pressed against the back of your head and smiled.

“Do you know how many times this has happened to me?” You questioned with a smirk.

“Put the gun down,” he ordered, jabbing his pistol harder against your head.

“Okay, okay,” you said smoothly, you lifted your arms up and dropped the gun.

“Who are you?” he asked reaching for your wrist to cuff you again.

“Rule number 15,” you answered, pausing a second as the gun left your head, “Always know who you’re dealing with.”

As he grabbed your wrist, you turned around violently, yanking him to the side and to the ground. By that time the other guard had come around and was coming after you again. You dodged him as he did, kicking him in the ass to send him flying off balance. The broken-nosed guard came at you again and you wasted no time in dispatching him with a couple jabs to the face. Taking the rifle that was slung over his shoulders, you double tapped his partner in the chest.

The broken-nosed guard lay on the ground groaning as you scurried around the vault grabbing a set of pistols and a couple holsters from the dead guards. You grabbed two K-Bar knives from your fallen foes as well as all the ammo you could pack. Strapping the holsters to your thighs you put both pistols and K-Bars in their place.

“I’m really sorry about this,” you started, grabbing another rifle and slinging it across your shoulder after checking the rounds, “But it's against the rules to leave you alive, and I’m bound to them for the rest of my life.”

He didn’t answer as you took out a pistol but growled when you clicked off the safety and aimed at his head.

“They call me Ghost, by the way,” you answered before firing a round into his skull.

 ——————————

 

“Once the Helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized,” Maria Hill stated, showing a diagram of the helicarriers.

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own,” the very much alive Nick Fury added.

“One or two won't cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational a whole lot of people are gonna die,” Maria frowned.

“We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA,” Fury started, “We need to get pass them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left…”

“We're not salvaging anything,” Steve interjected, anger evident in his voice, “We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down SHIELD.”

“SHIELD had nothing to do with it,” Fury argued.

“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends,” Steve snarled, “SHIELD's been compromised, you've said so yourself. HYDRA was right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

“Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? I noticed.”

“And how many paid the price before you did?” Steve asked.

“Look, I didn't know about Barnes.”

“Even if you have, would you have told me?” Rogers accused, “Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes.”

“He's right,” Maria muttered quietly, nodding to Fury as he glanced around the room.

“Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower,” Sam shrugged.

Nick leaned back into his seat with a sigh, “Well… Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain.”

 ——————————

 

You sprinted out of the bank and to the nearest car you could find, breaking open the window with the butt of your gun and setting off the alarm. Unlocking the car from the inside you hopped in, setting your rifle in the passenger seat. You took a K-Bar from its sheath and pried off the bottom of the steering column.

Locating the two battery and two starter wires, you cut the red battery wires with your knife and then stripped them of their insulation. You then twisted two of the wires together, causing the radio and all the lights to turn on. Then you cut the two starter wires and stripped them, being careful not to touch the actual wire. As soon as you connected the wires together the car started and you floored it.

Tearing through the streets with a screech of tires, you figured out where you were and started heading towards the Triskelion.

——————————

You pulled up to the guard at the boom bar and flashed your ID.

“You get a new car?” He asked raising the gate.

“Yeah,” you answered quickly and took off as soon as the gate was high enough. You didn’t even park correctly as you dashed into the doorway to the service stairs.

“Attention, all SHIELD agents. This is Steve Rogers.”

You came to a screeching halt when you heard Steve’s voice over the intercom.

“You've heard a lot about me over the last few days, some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth.”

“What are you doing Cap?” You asked yourself as you took off again.

“SHIELD is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building.”

When you got to the main level, you tore open the door with your rifle raised and began making your way down the hall. When you heard footsteps coming towards you, you ducked into a corner.

“They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury and it won't end there.”

You peaked around the corner and saw a small STRIKE team heading past you as they patrolled the halls.

“If you launch those Helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them.”

The STRIKE team turned the corner, with you on their tail.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay.”

You raised the rifle scope up to your eye and prepared to shoot.

“And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not.”

“Rumlow says they’re gonna launch the Carriers now,” one of the STRIKE soldiers said.

“In his dreams,” you growled, before firing off shots at the agents. By the time they turned around, they’d all been hit.

You felt the ground shift as the bay doors for the Helicarriers began to open.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” You cried running from where you were to the outside. The Helicarriers fired up with a roar as you glanced down the tarmac seeing two figures running towards the doors, Steve and Sam. What they didn’t notice was another team of agents coming out from behind a jet towards them with weapons drawn.

You quickly raised your weapon as Cap noticed the team, but before they could start their attack, you started yours. Shooting off enough rounds to down a couple them within seconds, and then jumping down from the roof towards the group. They turned towards you with wide eyes as you popped off a few more rounds and barreled towards them across the tarmac.

You tackled one of the few remaining agents and punched him in the face while Rogers and Wilson took out the rest. Shaking out your hand, you stood and came face to face with Captain America.

“Lieutenant?” He asked bewildered, looking you over, “How did you get here? Where did you—What did you—Nevermind, I don’t want to know. I’m glad you showed up”

“No, you don’t,” you agreed as he tossed you an extra comm, “What’s the plan?”

“Don’t have time,” he said, beginning to run down the tarmac again, “Hill, Lieutenant (L/N) is here, talk her through.”

“Welcome to the party, (L/N),” Hill’s voice came over the earpiece, “Just watch their backs.”

“Affirmative,” you nodded, as Falcon took off, “Cap…the Winter Soldier…it’s—,”

“Bucky, I know.”

“Okay, in that case, let’s kick some HYDRA ass,” you grinned following behind him.

He leaped off the upper tarmac and down into the Helicarrier bays, you shook your head with a smile.

As Steve ran into another STRIKE team, you had him covered, easily taking down and switching targets.

“(F/N)!” Sam yelled at you, jumping from where you were, you grabbed his hand as he swooped over you and dropped you a few feet above the Carrier bays.

You resumed fire on the enemy as Falcon flew up to one of the carriers and dodged anti-aircraft guns to land on its landing strip, only to appear again as a Quinjet began pursuing him.

“Hold still, Sam,” you muttered, aiming your rifle at one of the jet’s engines.

“Alpha lock,” Steve said over the comms.

“Falcon, where are you now?” Hill asked.

“Had to take a detour,” he yelled.

“Let me help you with that.”

Firing at the jet the engine exploded, sending the craft hurling to the ground and the glass dome at the bottom of the Helicarrier shattering.

“What took you so long?” Sam joked as he entered the dome, “I’m in.”

“You wouldn’t hold still,” you answered.

“Bravo lock!”

“Two down, one to go.”

Looking to your left, you saw a group of SHIELD pilots making their way to their jets.

“All SHIELD pilots scramble, we’re the only air support Captain Rogers has got,” the leader yelled to his team.

Before they could enter their jets, a sudden missile whistled through the air and into one of the planes. They ducked and covered from the explosion as heat began wafting off the aircraft.

From behind the explosion a lone figure walked, pumping the launcher again he let off another shot, his arm gleaming in the sun.

“Cap, your friend is here,” you called into your earpiece, “Falcon come get me,”

You watched as the Soldier climbed into a Quinjet and flew towards the third Helicarrier. Falcon came up from behind you and grabbed you, heading on the same route as the Quinjet. He let you off at the upper helicarrier and then proceeded to get Steve.

By the time that you got to the tarmac, Bucky’s Quinjet was already landed and he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Captain America and Falcon landed behind you with a rush of air.

“I don’t know where he is…” you trailed off, looking over the rows of jets and containers.

The three of you began heading towards the entrance to the inner tower when he came out of nowhere. Tackling Steve and sending him over the side, Sam rushed after him but didn’t get very far as the Soldier caught his wing and sent him flying backward.

As Sam recovered you took a swing at Bucky, only to be pushed away from him and over the edge. You hung onto the fencing of the runway as Falcon and the Winter Soldier duked it out. Lifting yourself over the fence you sprinted towards Sam as Bucky tore off one of his wings and kicked him off.

“No! Bucky, stop!” You yelled, tackling the Soldier as Sam began falling towards earth. Bucky threw you off him and into the containers. The breath was knocked out of you when you smacked back into them before you had time to recover his hand was around your throat and you were thrown from the Helicarrier.

Whipping out the two K-Bars from your belt as you fell, you pierced the metal exterior and hung on for dear life as you came to a slow stop. You looked up to see the Winter Soldier glaring down at you from the upper deck until he disappeared. From where you were you could barely see the glass dome of the main control room. Glancing around quickly you saw a ledge below you that you could swing to. Rocking back and forth from arm to arm you gained enough momentum to make the leap.

You underestimated just how far down the ledge was and landed hearing a definitive ‘crunch’ from your leg. Collapsing down onto the ledge you let out a shrill shriek before taking a breath and looking over to the dome. From inside you could see Steve and Bucky struggling with each other, luckily you still had your rifle strapped to your back. Rolling over onto your stomach, you laid your rifle out in front of you and shoved the stock into your shoulder.

Looking through the scope you set your crosshairs on Bucky’s head.

“Hill, I’m still on the Carrier,” you reported, “I got a target.”

With a sudden movement, Cap shoved Bucky out of the way and tackled him to the ground.

“No you don’t Lieutenant,” Steve growled before yelling at Bucky, “Drop it!”

“Cap? Lieutenant? What’s happening?” Hill asked.

“I lost visual,” you answered, pressing your cheek against the gun and waiting.

Cap emerged from where he was and headed for the control panel with the chip.

“One minute,” Hill called from the comms.

Steve ran towards the panel until he suddenly stopped, falling to his knees in pain.

“Shit,” you whispered, realizing that Bucky was already up and going. You recalibrate your rifle, trying to find a target when another shot went at Steve

“30 seconds, Cap,” Hill called again.

“Stand by,” Steve was barely able to groan.

“Charli—,” he began before being cut off by another shot and that’s when you finally got him.

“Contact,” you growled into the earpiece, “Target acquired.”

“Take the shot Lieutenant,” Hill ordered, you didn’t answer.

“No, Lieutenant, please!”

Instead, you watched as Cap lifted himself up towards the control panel again.

“Come on, Rogers,” you muttered, finger still outside the trigger guard.

“Take the shot, Lieutenant, that’s an order,” Maria commanded.

“No,” you stated simply, letting go of your rifle and watching Rogers again.

In a slow, strained motion he clipped the chip in, “Charlie Lock.”

“Okay Cap, Lieutenant, get out of there,” Maria chirped as the Helicarriers began to lock on to each other.

“Fire now,” Steve spoke.

“But Steve…” Maria spoke reluctantly.

“Do it! Do it now!” You said, attempting to get up, “Captain’s orders.” You disconnected your earwig and put it in your pocket.

There was a thunder of guns as the Helicarriers went to battle with each other and you began to look for cover. The Carrier lost altitude quickly as you made a running leap for the now partially shattered dome. You were lucky when you made it into the dome and came crashing down on the damaged catwalk.

“Rogers, you okay?” You yelled over to the Super Soldier. He was clutching onto a railing when you both heard a pained cry below you, pinned under a support beam was Bucky Barnes. You and Steve looked at each other before hurtling down to his aid. Bucky looked over to the two of you with a glare before trying to push it off of him. Rogers stumbled on the glass, a hand to his shot up stomach, not that you were doing any better as you limped to Barnes’ side.

“C’mon Rogers,” you called as he began lifting the beam. You grabbed onto Bucky’s shoulders as he did and pulled him free. The three of you lay on the glass dome in agony for a moment before Barnes pushed you off of him and rose to face Steve again.

“You know me,” Steve pleaded.

“No I don’t,” Bucky exploded toward him.

“Bucky,” Steve begged, “You’ve known me your whole life.”

Steve took a step closer to Bucky, trying to reach out to him, only to be met with a punch to the face. You began to get yourself off the floor and move towards the two.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes,” you spoke as another engine gave way in a deafening boom.

“Shut up!” He shrieked coming after you instead. A metal hand enclosed around you neck lifting you into the air. You didn’t struggle against him as his grip tightened.

“I’m not gonna fight you,” you choked out.

“You're my friend, Buck,” Rogers implored, raising his hands and dropping his shield. Barnes glanced at him and then at you before dropping you to the floor. You let out a pained gasp as a shock of pain went up your leg.

As soon as he dropped you he went after Steve again.

“You’re my mission,” he snarled, beginning to punch Steve in the face.

You lifted yourself off the floor and hobbled towards the two.

“You’re my mission!” he hollered again, hitting Steve harder.

“Barnes! Stop!” You yelled grabbing his metal arm, trying to stop his pummeling of Steve, he easily swatted you away.

“Then finish it,” Steve sighed, as Bucky wound up another punch, “Because I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes wide. Before he could land another blow, the glass gave way underneath the three of you, causing Steve to go plummeting towards the Potomac. You and Bucky latched onto opposite beams and you began reaching for Steve.

“Rogers!” You screamed, grabbing nothing but air.

Bucky glanced between you and Steve, but his eyes landed on you as you looked wildly into the water.

“Fuck!” You screeched as the beam you were holding onto cracked in half and you were sent falling through the air.

 ——————————

 

“Hill, where’s Steve?” Natasha asked into the comms, “Do you have a location on Rogers?”

“What about the Lieutenant?” Sam questioned, not getting a response from Maria.

“Hill!” Fury exclaimed, “Get me a visual on them now!”

——————————

You gasped when you finally came up for air and headed for land, letting most of your upper body do the work. Any movement in your leg sent shockwaves of pain up and down your body. Finally making it to land, you let out a breathy howl before trying to get to your feet. You caught your breath, leaning against a tree before hearing footsteps coming out from the water a couple yards from you. Pulling out your pistol you faltered forwards before seeing Barnes drop Steve’s unconscious body on the bank. You pointed your firearm at him when he looked at you and then you locked eyes with him.

He looked so confused and angry at the same time, but quickly his eyes hardened when he saw the gun in your hand. You sighed and gently set your pistol down, hands raised in peace. His stature softened as you limped forward and to Steve’s side, checking his pulse and breath. You barely heard Barnes walking away, but when you did you turned around quickly.

“Hey! Wait!” You called, hand outstretched to him. He turned to you, looking you over again. You paused, dropping your hand, “D-Don’t go that way, go the other way,” you pointed in the opposite direction, “They’ll be setting up roadblocks that way, but there are a couple of alleys that way that’ll keep you hidden.”

Grabbing the earwig from earlier, you dried it off and activated it again as he began walking off.

“Hey!” You called again, he turned, brows furrowing, “Thank you.”

He didn’t say a word, instead walking away from you and disappearing into the trees.

“Sam? Sam, come in?” You asked into the comm, “Natasha? Do you read?”

“We read you, Lieutenant,” Natasha’s voice came, “We’re locking onto your position.”

“Nat, Steve’s down, he needs an ambulance,” you groaned, before holding your leg in pain, “Make that two ambulances, please.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third and final part of Captain America - The Winter Soldier.
> 
> I apologize for cursing like a sailor, but there's only one way to describe Dr. Novak. ;)
> 
> Lemme know what you thought!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	9. Flashback 1.5 Cocaine and Corona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You swung the door open and a small bell jingled above you. The space was dimly lit and small, rusted trinkets littered the floor and tables. Display cases hung from the walls, firearms glinted from behind the protective glass. Axis and Allied flags hung high in the rafters, rippling from the cool breeze of the air conditioner. An old radio was lit up on a pedestal, quietly singing songs from the wartime. Warm sunlight filtered in from the windows, revealing floating dust particles dancing through the air. 
> 
> “¿Hola, como puedo ayudarte?” a voice came from deeper in the store. 
> 
> “Hello?” You asked, “¿Habla Inglés?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate was used for all the Spanish, I apologize for any mistakes.

> “I don’t need alcohol to make bad decisions.”

——————————

**Cartagena, Bolivar**

**Columbia**

**——————————**

The sun reflected brightly off the clear blue salt water under your surfboard as you coasted slowly towards the beach on another wave. Looking towards the glistening sands, sea spray sprinkled your face as you looked for Turner and Danny. You sat down on your board as you came to a smooth stop.

“White umbrella on your three o’clock Nighthawk,” you commented idly, rocking back and forth on your turquoise and white striped surfboard, water splashed up onto your exposed legs.

“There are about 100 white umbrellas out here Ghost, be a little more specific,” Danny growled, stalking through the jungle of umbrellas and beach towels.

“He’s wearing a pale yellow button up and—oh God—a leopard print speedo,” you grimaced.

“Oh, there he is,” Turner called, “Eyes on target, at ease Ghost.”

You turned from the beach, glancing once more at the man before heading out to catch another wave.

The team had been in Columbia for a little over two and a half months now, attempting to track down the couriers of the country’s most infamous drug cartel: Las Serpiente Blanca. The cartel was well known for mass producing the world’s finest cocaine and being able to smuggle it virtually anywhere they wanted. If it had been any other drug organization, your team would have left it to the local authorities and the DEA, but this one was different. Las Serpiente Blanca had taken a turn from trafficking drugs to smuggling weapons and funding small terrorist groups around the world. It had started out as a rumor but had since spiraled out of control as different groups appeared around the world, well armed and rich as kings. Thus warranting your team to shut it down immediately.

Finding the head of Las Serpiente Blanca had been more difficult than any of you had thought. There were no known drug routes and the local law enforcement had no leads that gave you any help whatsoever. So your team had to start at the bottom and follow the flow of cash to the top.

You’d started in the western city of Popayán, after confirming a possible dealer was in the area and following him for a couple of weeks. Then you followed the money to the mountainous Bogatá and everywhere in between before finally coming to the coastal city of Cartagena.

“Target’s on the move,” Danny observed from the beach, “Ghost, bring it in.”

You said nothing in response, instead flipping the board around towards the shoreline and matching the speed of an oncoming wave. As you did, you felt the tail of the board begin to lift and pushed yourself up with your arms, tucking your toes under and hopping into a crouched position before standing. The board skimmed the top of the water before slowing down enough for you to dip into the waves and wade to shore.

The crowd of locals and tourists on the beach parted as you stepped from the sea, towards Danny and Turner. With one hand you slicked back your wet hair and stole a small smile to Danny when he wrapped his arm around your waist and led you towards the shade of a nearby palm tree.

You dropped off the surfboard at a rental hut, still keeping an eye on the courier as he strolled the sparkling sands.

“Hang loose, amor,” Danny said, tossing you a towel, “Those waves were totally tubular, right?”

“Daniel, we have been here for three weeks and I have met nobody that talks like that,” you spoke, catching the towel and rolling your eyes. Danny gave a small chuckle in response, and wrapped his arm around your waist again, patting it gently and bringing you closer to him.

“He’s leaving the beach, you two lovebirds gonna follow him or what?” Turner sighed, leaning against the honey-colored panels of a beach bar, drink in hand.

“I got him,” you answered, pulling away from Danny.

“Negative troops, stay off him,” Weston cut in, “Head back to the safe house, we’ll set our ground assets on him.”

The three of you glanced at each other, watching the courier disappear into the bustling streets.

——————————

“Give him some space,” you murmured into the headset, watching your two assets follow the courier through the maze of streets.

You were seated in front of three different monitors hooked up to security cameras on different buildings, watching the man and your assets. The only reason Weston had called you off and replaced you was because of the way you stalked the streets like a predator. You had assured him that you could blend in enough, but he didn’t like it, instead giving your job to two informants that worked for the local authorities: Gabriel and Mateo. They were perfect for the job, they’d grown up street rats and could disappear into the streets like chameleons.

As good as they were at their job though, you tapped your foot impatiently. You didn’t like not being in on the action and, to make matters worse, you were crammed into a small single bed motel room with four dudes. They hovered over your shoulder like flies, silently watching the monitors with you.

“I’m getting some interference—Oliver fix that—Mateo?” You asked, the monitor fading in and out as you lost sight of the courier and Ollie crawled under the table.

“Sí?” Mateo answered you could barely see him in the corner of the screen.

“¿Lo ves a el?” You questioned, the video feed getting worse.

“Sí, lo veo.”

“Bueno, what’s he doing? ¿Que está haciendo él ahora?”

“Hablando con una prostituta.”

“Perfect,” you deadpanned as Danny began cracking up in the background behind you.

“Oh. My. God!” Danny cackled, tears forming in his eyes, “He’s hitting up a hooker!”

You scowled at Danny before turning back to the screen which had cleared up and was coming back into focus.

“How’s that?” Ollie asked, his voice muffled under the table.

“Good,” you answered, finally getting a good look at the man.

He was a tall, lanky man with almost no muscle on his figure, he had greased back, black hair that was tied into a ponytail trailing down his back; an unlit cigarette hung limply from the corner of his mouth and, luckily, he had changed out of his speedo…into really, really tight black skinny jeans which weren’t much better.

He was leaning against a wall, back towards the street, flirting with a pretty young woman when another man brushed passed him.

“Wait,” you said, pointing at the new man walking down the street, “Did they just make a switch?”

“Mateo, Gabriel, be ready to switch targets,” Weston ordered, eyes on the screen.

You watched the man go down the street for a while, looking him over for any sign that they’d switched. He strolled down the sidewalk slowly, then he made a grave error. From one of his jacket pockets, he produced a brown paper bag. Looking around him, he pulled a huge wad of cash from the bag, stuffed it back into his jacket and tossed the paper bag on the ground.

“He just littered…” Danny observed, jabbing his finger at the screen.

“New target confirmed,” Weston stated. Mateo and Gabriel changed directions quickly, tag teaming the man from opposite sides of the street.

“Engaging facial recognition,” Ollie declared, freeze-framing a clear picture of the man and beginning a scan.

You glanced at Weston as he watched the screen, his deep brown eyes absorbing information and formulating a plan.

“Name’s Javier López, lives and works in Medellín for a private antiquities dealer that specializes in World War 2 relics, and he’s made four trips to Cartagena in the past two months,” Oliver summarized.

“Captain Gonzalez and Sergeant Johnson, switch out the assets and keep a close eye on this guy,” Weston started, taking a seat next to you and pulling a cigar out of his jacket. Danny and Turner nodded in unison before exiting the room, “Lieutenant (L/N) and Private Walsh, pack up your gear and head to Medellín, check out this antiquities dealer and wait for further instructions.”

Weston produced a lighter from his pocket and lit his cigar, puffing it a few times before leaning back in his chair and waving you away. You pulled yourself away from watching the screen, grabbed a duffle bag from the bed and your rifle case.

“I’m driving,” you called over your shoulder to Ollie while he packed some of his gear.

“You drove last time!” He complained after you as you left the room.

——————————

“It’s nine in the morning, (F/N), you shouldn’t be drinking that,” Ollie hissed across from the cafe table.

“Hush, Oliver, I do what I want,” you said taking another sip of your beer.

“We’re working (F/N),” he warned, “Weston wouldn’t like it.”

“Weston can kiss my ass,” you answered, glancing across the street with another sip, “I will damage my liver whenever I feel like it.”

He shook his head, looking over the newspaper in front of him and finding the crossword puzzle. You peered across the street to the business you were staking out. It was a little red brick building on the corner of the street, 1940s themed signs hung in the dark windows and small antique trinkets lined the display window.

“How much do you know about World War Two?” He asked, writing down something in the newspaper.

“Captain America threw his mighty shield,” you sang, “All those who chose to oppose his shield must yield.”

“Stop,” he rolled his eyes, “Be serious, (F/N)

“Calm down Ollie, I know my stuff.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my great Grandad served in the war, he was liberated from a P.O.W. camp by Captain America and the Howling Commandos.”

“Really?” He repeated you nodded as you took a final sip from your beer and put it off to the side.

“Why do you think I became a soldier?”

“Cause your uncle was one.”

“Well, yeah, but he became one because his grandpa served.”

Ollie nodded, leaning back in his chair.

“¿Puedo traerte algo más?” The waitress asked, noticing your empty beer bottle and taking Oliver’s breakfast plate.

“Otra cerveza, por favor,” you answered, handing her the dry bottle as she walked away.

“That’s your fifth one,” he sighed, “You need to lay off.”

You stuck out your tongue at him, putting your feet up on another chair and watching the small brick building again. The waitress returned with your drink a few minutes later, you wasted no time in popping the top and taking a swig.

“Heads up, here’s our guy,” you gestured towards a man opening the doors to the business. The red and blue neon open sign flashed on and lights lit up the windows.

“Now?” Oliver asked, putting down his crossword puzzle.

“Let me finish my beer,” you said.

Ignoring Ollie’s protests, you chugged the rest of your beer and stood from your chair.

“C’mon let’s go,” you said, placing money down on the table and strolling across the street with Ollie in tow.

“Lieutenant? What’s the plan exactly?”

“Follow my lead,” you answered, “Plant the bug while I distract him.”

You swung the door open and a small bell jingled above you. The space was dimly lit and small, rusted trinkets littered the floor and tables. Display cases hung on the walls, firearms glinted from behind the protective glass. Axis and Allied flags hung high in the rafters, rippling from the cool breeze of the air conditioner. An old radio was lit up on a pedestal, quietly singing songs from the wartime. Warm sunlight filtered in through the windows, revealing floating dust particles dancing through the air.

“¿Hola, como puedo ayudarte?” a voice came from deeper in the store.

“Hello?” You asked, “¿Habla Inglés?”

Oliver glanced at you confused, he knew full well that you spoke fluent Spanish; he’d watched you interrogate a handful of people on this trip. You winked at him before returning to your facade.

“Oh yes,” the man appeared from behind a display case, “My name is Santiago, how may I help you?”

“Wonderful!” you smiled, clasping your hands in front of you and relaxing your stature to appear the least threatening as you could, “My name is (F/N) (L/N), this is Oliver Walsh, we work for a private collector back in the States, we’ve been traveling around a bit and saw your shop.”

“Is there anything I can help you find? We have many things, firearms, uniforms…you name it we probably have it.”

“Well,” you started, looking around the room, “He already has a lot of guns, do you have anything smaller?”

“Of course, let me show you.”

You followed Santiago through the maze of antiques, turning your head, you nodded to Ollie who disappeared into the labyrinth to place the bug.

Santiago showed you many objects that piqued your interest, but in order to stall, you played hard to get. You skimmed the room again, your eyes landing on a small display.

“What’s this?” You asked, placing your hands lightly on the glass.

“Captain America trading cards,” he answered, stepping to your side.

“Vintage?”

Santiago nodded, “Mint condition.”

“No way,” you grinned, “How much?”

“Not for sale I’m afraid,” he frowned, “They’re from a private collection.”

“Too bad,” you pouted, before noticing another display case with a variety of shoulder patches, “What about those?”

“They also belong to a private collector, I apologize”

You looked over the case, rank and division patches were laid out in rows; most of which you recognized except one.

“What’s this one?” You asked pointing to it. A bright scarlet skull with six curved tentacles grinned menacingly up at you.

“I’m sorry miss, I’m not entirely sure.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, rocking back on your heels and looking for Ollie, “Ummmm…let’s see, do you have any Nazi service caps?”

“I don’t have any on the floor right now, but I did just get a shipment in from a collector in France. Come to the back, let me show you.”

You followed him through the store and Ollie returned to your side, nodding to you that it was done.

Santiago led you to the back room where wooden shipping crates packed the small space.

“Feel free to browse through any of the open containers,” he smiled, gesturing to a row of crates.

“What about those,” Oliver asked, pointing at the sealed crates.

“Those are going to be shipped out within the next few days, please leave them be.”

The front door’s bell rang in the distance and Santiago excused himself, leaving the two of you alone.

“Check everything for cocaine,” you ordered, making your way to the row of sealed containers and attempting to find one with a loose lid.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Ollie whimpered as he glanced to where Santiago had disappeared, “Weston told us to just check it out and wait.”

“We are checking it out…just really thoroughly.”

You looked over the boxes, each had their destinations labeled on them: Egypt, Russia, Australia, and Ghana among them. Spotting a crowbar on top of one of the boxes you snatched it and pried it under one of the lids.

“(F/N),” Ollie warned. Too late.

Prying back the top you exposed the cargo in the crate.

“What the fuck?” You whispered harshly to yourself.

Inside were various antiques including canteens, mess kits, and bits of uniforms. You dug through the crate, absolutely stumped. Then, you grabbed one of the canteens. Instead of being lightweight like you thought it would be it was heavier. Opening the lid you poured out the contents. White powder poured out into your hand. You quickly closed the canteen and placed it carefully back into the crate, putting the lid back on.

“We need to get out of here…now,” you said, placing the crowbar back where you found it.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that miss,” a voice came from the doorway.

There stood Santiago with three other armed men behind him. He took a step forward and produced the bug Ollie had placed in his coat pocket.

“It was a good attempt, but I’m afraid you didn’t try hard enough,” he said waving the bug in the air before tossing it on the ground and crushing it under his foot.

“Goddammit Oliver,” you hissed, his face turning whiter than it already was.

Santiago came towards you and stopped a few feet away, “Who do you work for?”

You didn’t answer, instead clenching your jaw shut and trying to come up with another plan. The men behind him began circling around you and Oliver.

Santiago then changed his attention from you to Ollie and asked the same question.

“Um, well…uh,” he stammered, eyes darting to you. Your brows furrowed and you shook your head, he went quiet.

Santiago gave a sad smile before shaking his head and nodding to the men surrounding you. You mentally prepared for a fight, sizing up the men in the room and their weapons.

“Mr. Nunez is going to want to talk,” he said, a threatening edge on his voice. He looked you over and smiled again, “He’s going to like you.”

It happened quickly, you didn’t see it coming as the stock of a rifle collided with the back of your head and you collapsed in a heap on the ground. The cool cement floor sent chills through your body as the light faded away.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness gracious, you made it!!
> 
> Lemme know what you thought!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	10. (Un)Expected Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Sam,” you smiled, “Sorry, it takes me a while to get around.”
> 
> “That’s alright,” he grinned, handing you the wallet.
> 
> “Thank you so much,” you said, tossing it onto the kitchen counter.
> 
> “You okay?” He asked, looking you over, Bucky’s hand tightened, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

>  “I’ve got a war in my mind.”

——————————

You leaned back in your chair listening to the Motown jazz of Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man coming from Sam’s phone. He had just nodded off and you were right behind him as you settled farther down into your seat. The two of you sat opposite each other in Steve’s hospital room, the wounded super soldier on a bed between you. You and Sam had taken shifts sitting by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. This had been one of the times that Sam had come to relieve you and you had been too lazy to get up.

The ‘team’ had all been laid up in the hospital for a while, but most were back on their feet. Maria was being interviewed for a job at Stark Industries, Natasha was testifying at a Committee Hearing, and Sam had obtained minor injuries from his fall and fight with Rumlow. You, on the other hand, were a little worse for wear…as usual. You’d fractured both the tibia and fibula of your left leg from your leap on the Helicarrier, luckily it was a clean break. The hospital had offered you a wheelchair which you had refused and opted for a set of crutches instead.

A full leg cast covered your leg where it was propped up on the end of Steve’s bed and a soft throbbing began as you drifted in and out of sleep.

“On your left,” a soft, tired voice mumbled from beside you, jerking you and Sam awake.

Sam smiled widely, “Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.”

Steve rolled his eyes playfully before letting them roam the room. They landed on your propped up leg when they flicked up to your face.

“Lieutenant? Are you okay? I’m so sorry. What happened?” He asked worriedly, trying to get up from the bed; Sam holding him down gently.

“Not your fault Steve,” you said, taking your leg in both hands and lowering it to the floor, “I miscalculated, my mistake.”

He relaxed a bit, still looking you over worriedly before rubbing his temples, “What happened?”

“What do you remember?” Sam replied, reaching over to his phone and pausing his music.

“I remember…” he trailed off, looking at the wall and furrowing his brows, “…falling.”

He looked to Sam for help and Sam nodded to you.

“You fell into the Potomac after your scuffle with Barnes,” you reminded calmly, Steve’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God, Bucky? Where is he? Is he okay? Does he remember?” He rambled, again trying to lift himself out of bed, “I gotta talk to him. It wasn’t his fault.”  
“I know Steve, calm down,” you hummed while hobbling to his side and softly grabbing his arm, “He pulled you out of the Potomac.”

“What?” Sam hissed, flabbergasted, “You told the authorities you didn’t see him.”

“I lied,” you growled under your breath, “They would have hunted him down, and then what? They would have thrown him in prison, I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“So what really went down?” Sam whispered, glancing towards the door; a confused look crossed Steve’s face.

“He pulled Steve out and I pointed him away from the roadblocks.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam groaned you shrugged, “He’s dangerous.”

“No, he’s not, the Winter Soldier is.”

“Same thing.”

“You sound like Stark,” you snarled, “It’s not the same, they’re different people.”

“Both of you, calm down,” Steve said, holding his hands up, “First of all, is he okay?”

“I’m not sure,” you answered, “He left pretty quick, but I think he’s okay.”

“Second of all,” Steve started, “Why are we whispering.”

“Two armed guards outside,” Sam murmured.

“And we don’t know who we can trust yet,” you added.

“Mr. Stark is supposed to be getting rid of them soon,” Sam spoke, returning to his seat.

Steve leaned back in his bed, rubbing his temples again, “Where’s Nat?”

“Testifying at a hearing,” Sam answered, “She’s fine, Agent Barton came and got her the other day.”

A sigh left Steve as he nodded and closed his eyes, “You two should go home, you look like ghosts.”

Sam chuckled, you smirked sadly.

“Tony and Dr. Banner are going to relieve us soon,” you smiled, patting his shoulder. “Then Romanoff and Barton after that.”

“Perfect,” Steve said, a small grin playing on his lips before it faded, “Where do you think he’d go?”

“I don’t know,” you frowned.

“He’s my friend.”

“So are we.”

——————————

“Do you think it’ll be okay leaving him with Stark?” Sam asked after closing the door to Steve’s room, “He’s kinda rambunctious.”

“You have no idea,” you grinned, “I think it’ll be good for him. If anyone can take his mind off Barnes, it’s Stark’s antics.”

The two of you stepped into the elevator, you leaned back onto the rails and fiddled with your crutches.

“Sick of them already?” Sam commented.

“Five more weeks,” you huffed, counting down the hours.

He shook his head and chuckled. The elevator stopped smoothly at the parking lot and the doors swished open.

“You need a ride?” Sam asked as you limped outside.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you answered.

He shook his head and led you to the new car that Stark had been kind enough to give him.

“What now?” He questioned once he’d gotten out of the parking lot.

“Hmm?”

“Now that SHIELD’s gone, you’re out of a job. What’re you going to do now?”

“I don’t know, probably go home. My uncle’s shop is waiting for me to come back.” you contemplated.

“You don’t wanna stick around?” He glanced at you.

“There’s not much left for me here.”

“What if I knew of a job for you?”

“Really?” You turned to him.

“Well, see I had a meeting with Stark the other day and—”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, “I’m not joining the Avengers.”

“Damn,” he sighed while shaking his head, “Why?”

“I’m tired of fighting,” you answered, your stomach tightening.

“But you jump into a fight as soon as one comes up, I hear,” he countered, you sent a glare his way, “Hey, I told you, I tell ‘em as I see ‘em.”

“No more,” you decided, “I’m done with all this superhero business.”

He snickered again as he pulled into your driveway.

“Thanks for the ride,” you muttered, swinging the door open and attempting to get out of the car.

“Steve should be getting out of the hospital soon,” Sam commented getting out and walking over to you, “You gonna stick around?”

“As soon as I get out of this cast, I’m leaving,” you groaned as he pulled you from your seat.

“Just stay in touch, okay?” Sam smiled, showing off his teeth.

“You got it Toucan-Sam,” you grinned, giving him a light hug and stepping away, “Take care of yourself and don’t let Steve pull you into anything crazy.”

“I like crazy,” he said, handing you your crutches, “You take care.”

You nodded as you made your way to the front door and waved him off while he drove away. The house keys jingled when you took them out of your pocket and opened the door. Closing it behind you, you leaned up against it and sighed, taking your hair out of the tight bun it was in. You tossed the keys onto the counter and shuffled to the cupboard to grab a glass, not bothering to turn on the lights. Turning on the tap you placed the cup under the stream then stopped mid-motion; you felt eyes on your back. Not bothering to turn off the tap, you whipped around with the glass raised and ready to throw.

A hand clamped around your wrist and easily wrenched it around causing you to drop the glass. The glass shattered on the floor as you thrashed to get free. Your eyes finally focused on the face of your assailant and you froze. Barnes.

His hair was disheveled and dark circles ringed his pale eyes. He was still dressed as the Winter Soldier, black leather and straps included. His metal arm held your wrist in place while the other hung limply by his side, your free hand moved to the one that clutched your wrist and tried prying off his fingers. Shoving you backward, he pinned you between the counter and himself; your crutches clattered to the floor.

“Who are you?” He growled through his teeth.

“(F/N) (L/N),” you whimpered as he twisted your wrist again.

“You know me,” he stated, coming closer to your face and tightening his grip on you.

Panicking, you tried shoving him off, only to have him twirl you around and put your arm in a hammerlock. Your back was to him now and you yelped as he applied pressure to your shoulder, elbow, and wrist.

“You know me,” he repeated in your ear, “Yes or no.”

“Yes.”

He paused for a second taking in your words, “Who am I?”

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes,” you explained, trying to hide your pain, “Your friends call you Bucky.”

“I don’t have friends,” he hissed.

“You did…you do,” you exclaimed as he added more pressure, “Steve Rogers.”

“The man from the bridge?”

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?” He snarled.

“No, there’s an exhibit at the Smithsonian, it’ll tell you the same thing,” you breathed, trying to regain your composure.

“Why did you help me?”

“Steve would kill me if I would have let anyone hurt you,” you said, “Just let me take you to him, he can help you.”

“No,” he barked, leaning against you, “You tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s just talk thi—.”

You were cut off by the doorbell ringing, Bucky’s head swung around and loosened his grip.

“Hey, (F/N)!” Sam’s voice came from the other side.

“Shit,” you whispered.

“You forgot your wallet in my car, you probably need it.”

You stayed silent, twisting your head around to see Barnes’ reaction. He pulled away from you but kept ahold of your wrist.

“Make it quick,” he ordered lowly, dragging you towards the door, “Anything tricky and I kill him.”

“Barnes…leg,” you groaned as he made you put weight on it. He said nothing in reply and instead pushed you to the door, keeping a hand on your wrist. Nodding at you to open the door, you complied.

“Hey, Sam,” you smiled, “Sorry, it takes me a while to get around.”

“That’s alright,” he grinned, handing you the wallet.

“Thank you so much,” you said, tossing it onto the kitchen counter.

“You okay?” He asked, looking you over, Bucky’s hand tightened, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m just tired,” you fibbed, “I was about to lie down.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam jumped, “I better get going then. I’ll see you later.”

You nodded as he walked back to his car and drove off for the second time. As soon as he was gone, the door slammed in your face and you were forced against it; facing Bucky this time. He looked you over as you relaxed against the door. Letting go of your wrist he backed away, eyes still on you.

You didn’t realize how much you had been relying on him to keep you standing and wobbled a little on your good leg. Focusing on your balance you looked up at him, he towered over you, more than you thought he would and he returned your stare.

“Move,” he spoke simply.

You shook your head, “I can’t let you leave looking like that.” He glared at you.

“Look,” you sighed and gestured at his limp arm, “You’re obviously hurt and you can’t walk around town in that. Everyone is looking for you. Steve’s looking for you.”

Bucky frowned, looking at you and then the clothes he was wearing.

“Let me help you,” you offered, hands up in peace, “Please.”

 ——————————

 

After a lot of convincing, he finally let you lead him down into the basement. You flicked the light on and peered around the room, it was just like you left it. Boxing gloves lay scattered on the floor and a half drank a bottle of water sat on the ground. A pile of unopened cardboard boxes was stacked in the corner and you made your way towards them. Digging through the pile, you found the one you wanted with ‘Danny’ scribbled on the side in black marker. You sighed as you opened the box and glanced back to Bucky who was watching you carefully.

As you opened the box a smell came to your nose, cedar and clove with a hint of spice, you stopped. You sniffed again, closing your eyes as a knot formed in your stomach…his cologne. Shaking your head you dug through the box and pulled out a pile of clothes. Setting them on the ground, you grabbed out everything you needed.

“Here,” you said, handing Bucky the pile, “Bathroom’s the first door on the right, go change.”

He disappeared from behind you as you cleaned up and stuffed the box back where it was. Groaning, you got onto your good foot and limped your way up the stairs.

By the time you got up to the living room Bucky was coming out of the bathroom. Everything fit him perfectly, you motioned for him to come closer. He flinched away when you fixed the collar of his jacket and straightened out his ball cap.

“Is your arm okay?” You asked while smoothing out his shirt.

“It’s fine,” he grumbled.

“Is it broken?”

“No.”

“Dislocated?”

“Not anymore,” he answered, pulling away from you.

“Sore?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you nodded, hobbling towards the kitchen again. You grabbed the wallet Sam had brought you and took out all the cash you had, “Here.”

“No,” he said, batting your hand away.

“Take it,” you commanded, “It’s enough for a couple nights of food and maybe a hotel room.”

You grabbed a pen from the counter as well as a piece of paper and scribbled your number on it.

“If you need anything, food or a safe house,” you handed him the paper and the money, “Call me…or you know where I live, I’ll be around for a while.”

He took the money from you and stuffed it in his pocket before turning to leave.

“If you tell anyone,” he called over his shoulder, “I’ll kill you.”

“I heard you the first time.”

Bucky grabbed the door handle and peered outside, looking over your neighborhood.

“Be careful,” you warned, “You get hurt, Steve kills me.”

He looked at you one last time before disappearing out the door.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you made it!!
> 
> Thanks for reading, lemme know what you thought!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	11. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Light ticks began to emanate from the lock on the doorknob. You stopped, staring intently at the doorknob as the sounds of metal picks scraping the tumblers dug their way deeper in to the lock. Your blood ran cold at the sound, only a handful of people would ever try and break into your home..."

> “If you fall, I’ll be there.”

——————————

“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down Hydra the Nazi Rogue Science Division.”

His eyes flicked around the exhibit, taking in every detail and learning every bit of information about the man from the river; all while keeping an eye on every person in the room. He pulled the hat the woman had given him farther down his face and bowed his head as he made his way through the sea of people. He’d been watching this place for a while, deciding to go in only during the busiest time to make it easier to blend in.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on the playground and battlefield.”

He paused, listening intently to the recording. Bucky Barnes, that's what they had called him… what _she_ had called him. Glancing over his shoulder he spotted an illuminated portrait, he stopped in his tracks. He'd only caught glimpses of himself passing windows on the street, but the man the portrait… that was him.

“Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.”

The man from the Helicarrier—Steve—he hadn't been lying. His jaw dropped slightly as he read the inscription before he clenched it shut and slunk his way to the exit.

He wanted more information.

——————————

You clicked the slide of your SIG back into place while heaving a heavy sigh and leaning farther back into the couch. The outside world began to lighten as the sun finally broke over the horizon, your ears pricked up as another car slowly passed your house. You relaxed again as it pulled away and the engine noise disappeared around the corner. God, you hated living in the suburbs. Ever since you had gotten out of the hospital you’d been jumpy, and it wasn't because a highly trained, brainwashed assassin was on the loose.

No, it was because Doctor Douchebag MD was still alive and you had no idea where he was. You hadn’t heard from Novak since he had waltzed out of the bank vault and vanished into thin air.

The last two weeks you'd slept with a loaded gun underneath your pillow and had woken up at the slightest sound every night. To say you were skittish was an understatement, you'd run background checks on the mailman and the door-to-door missionaries that came around every so often. The only time you'd relaxed over the past few weeks was when Sam and Steve dropped by to talk about the search for Bucky, which wasn't going very well.

Like Novak, Barnes had disappeared like a ghost. You kept your promise to Barnes and hadn’t told Steve or Sam about his visit, but you also promised them that you’d keep your eyes and ears open. You were planning on having some of your old soldier buddies find out more details about the search because not just Sam and Steve were looking for the Winter Soldier; and that's what had you worried. If the Government or, God-forbid, Hydra got a hold of Bucky first, it would be hell to pay from Captain America himself.

Even if you didn't know Steve very well you knew that there wasn't a lot that could get a rise out of him. He would always hold himself in a calm and stoic manner, but during the talks you had with him he had seemed so different; he was desperate. When he had woken from his time in the ice, he’d woken with nothing from his past, he lost everything. Then Bucky Barnes came back into his life just to be lost again. Steve had made it clear to you, and the punching bag down in your basement, that he was going to get Barnes back, no matter what it took and no matter who stood in his way.

You and Sam had sat in the corner watching Captain America, the living legend, come unhinged against the sandbag. The two of you thinking it better for him to get his anger out on an inanimate object instead of a real person.

While Cap was beating the shit out of your gym equipment, you and Sam had talked through where Barnes could've gone. You would offer up advice and then the two boys would follow it up, always coming up short.

You had to put on a mask when they were there, you didn't want them knowing about Novak or how scared you were of his return. As soon as they’d leave the house you'd go back to being as timid as a rabbit. You'd even thought about disappearing, just like Barnes, but you couldn't abandon Sam and Steve while they were still coming to you for help.

Sunlight finally filtered through the slotted shades and onto your propped up leg that was still in a cast, another reason you couldn't run… Literally.

Your body flinched as a small ‘click’ came from the coffee maker in the kitchen. A shaky breath left your lips; the sooner you could get out of town the better. The aroma of fresh coffee filled your nose as the faint dripping of the liquid came from the pot. You rubbed your eyes and stifled a tired yawn before getting up and heading toward the kitchen. You rinsed out an old cup from the sink and began pouring in the dark liquid. Steam rose from the full cup as you glanced out the front window and took small sips of the bitter liquid, letting it warm you from the inside out. Snapping the shades shut you hobbled your way back to the couch, careful not to spill your drink.

Sinking back into the couch and warming your hands on the cup, you released a heavy sigh. The sound of a heavy-duty engine came from outside, probably the garbage truck, but that wasn’t what it sounded like and all of a sudden you were back in Iraq.

——————————

A HEMTT drove slowly past you and you waved to the driver before crossing the road to the briefing tent. The rest of your team was seated around a conference table, awaiting your arrival.

“You got ‘em, Lieutenant?” Weston asked from the corner, you nodded.

“The results are in gentleman,” you smiled, pulling out a packet from behind your back, “I hope you don't mind, Commander, I've already taken a look.”

“The floor’s all yours, Lieutenant,” Weston responded.

“Well,” you smiled, “The missiles we found were an exact match in the database,” you paused for dramatic effect, “A 100% match to none other than…”

You paused again taking a seat at the table.

“Dammit, (Y/N),” Turner whined, “Tell us.”

You took a deep breath, a mischievous look glinting in your eyes, “…Stark Industries.”

Everyone's jaw, except Weston’s, dropped.

“Stark?” Ollie gaped, “As in _the_ Tony Stark?”

“The one and only,” you smirked, sliding the file across the table to Weston.

“No way!” Ollie exclaimed, “He’s an American icon, there's no way he could be selling weapons to terrorists!”

Weston passed the file to Danny and Turner, “Looks like we're going to have to ask Mr. Stark some questions.”

“We’re going back to the States?” You asked Weston nodded, you threw up your arms in excitement, “Yessss!”

“Commander Weston, sir?” A voice came from the entrance of the tent, “Your convoy is ready to deploy on your orders, sir.”

Weston nodded to the young soldier and stood from his seat, “Let’s move troops.”

The four of you stood quickly at attention, “Sir yes sir,” you chorused before leaving the tent.

A line of Humvees and other transport vehicles along with rows of soldiers stood at attention for you.

“At ease, men,” Danny hollered over the roar of the engines, “Load up!”

“Johnson grab the gear,” Weston ordered as he stepped into a sand-colored Humvee, “Walsh, how’s our route?”

“Route is clear, sir,” Oliver answered, crawling into the vehicle after Weston.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Turner called from behind you. As you turned, he tossed you your rifle. The metal weapon was cool in your hands, refreshing compared to the heat of the desert.

“Thanks,” you grinned, slinging the weapon over your shoulder and helping him with a crate of gear.

“Two-minute warning, soldiers,” Danny warned, hopping into the Humvee.

“Two-minute warning!” You repeated to the transports on either side of you and the message was passed down the line of vehicles. You turned to one of the soldiers next to you, “Pass the word to keep communications open and clear.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded, turning away from you to follow your orders.

“All strapped in,” Turner said, coming around the Humvee to your side, “You ready for this?”

“It’s just a supply convoy moving along a well known Army route,” you answered, “What could go wrong?”

“With us? Anything,” Turner joked, boosting himself up into the vehicle with the rest of the team. You shook your head in reply and stepped onto the rails of the Humvee.

“Roll out troops,” you ordered over the impatient engines and the vehicles began gliding over the sand. You gave a stiff salute to the Commanding Officer of the base and then slipped into the cab, slamming the door behind you.

Handing your rifle to Ollie, you strapped yourself into the seat next to Turner, while he put it on the rack above his head. The vehicle accelerated quickly and took off into the unforgiving desert.

The engine droned aggressively in front of you, making you revel in the sound of the finely tuned machine.

“Where to next, Commander?” Danny shouted over the fury of noise.

“Where is Stark currently located?” He asked, taking out a cigar and glancing to Oliver for the answer.

“His mansion is on the West Coast, but I’ll find his current location,” Ollie stated, throwing open his laptop.

“You don’t think Stark is behind this, right?” Turner questioned, only loud enough for you to hear.

“I don’t know,” you muttered back, “He’s a fuckin’ genius though and they do call him the Merchant of Death.”

“A playboy genius,” Turner clarified, “He’s too busy drinking and getting it on with girls to be dealing with terrorists.”

You shrugged in response and turned your attention back to Commander Weston.

“Stark’s current location is in New York,” Ollie confirmed.

“There’s your position, Captain,” Weston said, lighting his cigar and taking a long drag.

You grinned to yourself while leaning back into your seat, it had been almost a year since you had been back to the States. It meant you didn’t have to try that hard to blend in and you didn’t have to watch your back as much.

“Sir?” Oliver grunted suddenly, his brows knitted together in confusion, “We have a problem.”

You straightened up.

“What is it, Walsh?” Weston asked undisturbed.

“Our communications just went out!” Ollie exclaimed, frantically striking the keys on his computer; his eyes flicking around the screen.

“Get them back up,” Weston ordered, leaning forward in interest, cigar still hanging from his mouth. You glanced out the window into the growing cloud of dust.

“I can’t, everything’s gone dark, we’ve been jammed!”

Dark shapes began to form on the horizon, a dusty haze shrouding them in a thick blanket.

“Commander! Stop the vehicle!” You exclaimed, realizing what the shapes were.

“Amor, what is it?” Danny asked, leaning forward to look out the window.

“It’s an ambu—

——————————

You were wrenched out of the past by a loud knocking at your front door. Bright oranges and soft pinks filtered into your living room from the slowly fading sun. Your once steaming cup of coffee sat frigid in your hands. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin along with long trails of tears that still flowed freely from your eyes. Wiping your face, you took a shaky breath and rose from your seat.

The knock came again, louder and more aggressive this time.

You grabbed your SIG from the couch and flicked off the safety while slinking as quietly as you could toward the door. Light ticks began to emanate from the lock on the doorknob. You stopped, staring intently at the doorknob as the sounds of metal picks scraping the tumblers dug their way deeper into the lock. Your blood ran cold at the sound, only a handful of people would ever try and break into your home, the most concerning being Novak. Not bothering to look out the window, you put your hand on the doorknob and waited.

A reaffirming ‘click’ came from the lock and you let the knob slide in your hand as it was opened from the other side.

“See? I told you it would be easy,” a muffled voice came from outside.

“This is a horrible idea,” another said, “She almost killed us the last time we broke into her house. Tell her this is a bad idea, Steve. Go on, tell her.”

“This is a bad idea, Nat,” came a third.

You relaxed when you heard the third voice and a small smirk grew on your face as you yanked the door open with all the strength you had.

“I agree with Sam,” you chirped as a blast of air and red hair went shooting past you only to face plant on the floor behind you, “That was a horrible idea.”

“I hate you,” Natasha muttered, unmoving, from the floor.

“Good,” you joked while stepping aside for Sam and Steve to enter.

“Where were you?” Sam asked, hopping over Natasha and heading to your refrigerator.

“My room,” you answered quickly, while shuffling out of Steve’s way and softly closing the door, “I fell asleep.”

“You must be a real sound sleeper,” Steve stated, glancing down at Nat and reaching a hand down to help her up.

“Hope you had good dreams,” Romanoff growled as she returned to her feet.

One of your hands twitched slightly before you painted on a smile, “I did, thanks for asking Red.” She rolled her eyes before walking into the living room behind Steve, “What can I help you guys with?”

“Somebody saw him,” Steve smiled, turning to you with an excited tone, “At the Smithsonian.”

“Really?” You cocked an eyebrow while leaning against the kitchen counter, “A positive sighting?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam nodded, grabbing a plate of food out of the fridge and sitting at the table, “Positive ID from tour guides and surveillance footage matches his height and build.”

“Why the Smithsonian?”

“He went to the exhibit,” Steve jumped, “He remembers, he’s gotta remember!”

“How long ago?” You questioned, moving from your spot behind the counter and towards them.

“Couple days ago,” Natasha answered.

“You guys better work quick,” you stated, “The guy’s a ghost, he could be long gone by now.”

“We’ve been trying to track his movements,” Nat said, “He’s been keeping a real low profile.”

“He pops up in random places throughout the city,” Sam declared looking to Steve.

“We can’t find a pattern,” he frowned, “We were hoping you might be able to help find one.”

“Why me?” You quizzed sitting on the arm of the couch.

“You think the same,” Sam explained, “You’re both military snipers. Are there any military maneuvers you would use to get through a city unseen?”

You shook your head with a frown, “Blend in,” you advised simply, “Your best weapon in unfamiliar territory is to make it look like you belong there.”

“Where would you hide in the city?” Sam asked, scraping food around his plate.

“Abandoned building,” you nodded to yourself after thinking for a bit, “Not many people and a good vantage point. But I’d be trying my hardest to get out of the city as fast as I could. There are too many eyes watching in the city. Barnes is smart, he’s probably gone by now.”

Steve’s face dropped.

“Look, Steve,” you started softly, “If he went to the Smithsonian, then he knows you were telling the truth.”

“Then why not come to me?” He snapped, jumping from the couch and pacing around the living room, “I can help him.”

You shrugged, “Maybe he’s scared, I know I would be if everything I thought I knew was turned upside-down.”

“He’s out there somewhere,” Steve declared aggressively pacing the floor, “I’m going to find him.”

“I know you are Steve,” you insisted, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder, “We’re all here to help you.”

Romanoff and Sam nodded in agreement before Sam spoke again, “If he left the city, where would he go?”

“I don’t know,” you glanced to Natasha.

“Somewhere nobody would look for him,” she responded, holding your gaze.

“Another country maybe, overseas?” You added, agreeing with her.

“But how would he get out of the country?”

“He’s a ghost,” you groaned, rubbing your temples lightly, “He could get anywhere he wanted to.”

“We need to expand our search,” Steve asserted, “Can you keep in touch with your contacts and let us know if he shows up anywhere?”

“Of course, as soon as I know you’ll know.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Steve sighed before outstretching his hand to you.

“Anytime Captain,” you beamed, taking his hand, “Take care, keep me updated.”

“Finish up Sam,” Natasha said, rising from her chair and heading towards the door.

Sam looked at his almost empty play and then to you, you held up a hand and waived it, “Take it, Zoomie, I don’t mind.”

Sam grinned, “Thanks (Y/N),” he took his plate and jogged quickly after Steve.

“See ya, Red,” you called as Natasha left your peripheral and stepped through the door with a scoff, letting it slip close behind her.

You shook your head and watched them speed away in Natasha’s car; they weren’t going to find him, at least not until he wanted to be found. Barnes wanted to figure things out for himself, he wasn’t going to ask for help nor was he going to go running back to Steve when he did.

Grabbing your SIG from the kitchen drawer, you returned to your seat on the couch, gently sitting yourself down with a heavy sigh. The sun had barely disappeared below the horizon, a deep purple was fading into the sky and streetlights outside your home buzzed to life. You leaned back into the cushions and closed your eyes, hoping that maybe you’d get a good night’s sleep that night…nope.

A soft knock came from your door again, you let out a groan.

“Look, Sam, I told you to keep the plate,” you barked, heading to the door again and throwing it open, “It’s really not that big of…”

You stopped, hunched in front of you was a large black mass, much bigger than Sam; he was silhouetted against the streetlights and darkening sky. Not recognizing the shape, you reached for your gun, only to find that you had left it on the couch.

“Wait,” a rough voice came, the mass held up his hands in stiff submission, a glint of metal was caught in the light, “I need your help.”

“Barnes?”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw yeah! You made it!
> 
> Let me know what you thought!!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	12. Redux : (Un)Expected Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What if they find me?” He asked suddenly, looking up to you, “What would you do then?”
> 
> “They? As in Hydra?” You said, he nodded and you shrugged, “Fight. It’s what I always do.”
> 
> He scoffed again, standing from the table and approaching you, “You don’t know what they’re capable of.”
> 
> “Listen here, Soldier Boy, I am fully capable of taking care of myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [YouTube Music Link](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwxg9JXtGAUATBTF8W2aRJqXX8z3CCMP9)

 

> ”You don’t need a reason to help people.”

——————————

The stiff surrender Bucky had feigned vanished when he realized you were unarmed. With a swift stride, he barged through the door and seized your upper arm, dragging you back towards the living room; slamming the door behind him. Instead of struggling against him, you thought it better to play it his way, quickly backpedaling to keep up with his pace. He easily tossed you to the couch and grabbed your SIG that was balancing on the armrest, tucking it into his waistband.

“Stay,” he commanded with a raspy voice before turning on his heel to search the rest of the house. You sat back into the chair with a sigh, knowing that this would be yet another long, sleepless night.

Bucky prowled the house like a feral cat, slinking from window to window and closing the blinds. His jaw was clenched into a scowl as he roamed your house checking every room for any unwanted guests. Cold gray eyes flicked back and forth from corner to corner, taking one last look around before they locked onto you. He eyed you suspiciously again, longer this time. They took in every detail, attempting to read you like a book; you knew he would fail miserably, everyone did.

Even so, you squirmed under his gaze. Barnes’ eyes were hard and unforgiving, matching his stature. He stood a good head and a half taller than you, was at least two times as wide, and built like a brick. In reality, he was a living, breathing concrete wall.

Pushing away the feeling to shudder, you decided to mirror his stare and read him. He looked disheveled, his hair matted and clothes wrinkled with a light dusting of dirt. His skin was pale and some strips of dirt painted his face. The baseball cap was pulled low over his face, allowing you to only catch a glimpse of his bloodshot eyes as he stared at you. He was still wearing the clothes you had given him, with the exception of a few rips here and there, they looked the same. You glanced up at his eyes again watching him carefully, there wasn’t much to read. Maybe Sam was right, the two of you were more similar than you thought.

Silence filled the air for what seemed like minutes before you finally broke it, “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“Neither did I,” he growled, still looking you up and down.

“What do you want?” You questioned, the words coming out more hostile than you intended.

“I went to the museum,” he said flatly.

“I know,” you stated, leaning back into the couch as his eyes narrowed, “The security cameras caught you and tour guides made positive ID’s.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, his eyes leaving you and roaming the floor in thought.

“Look, it’s not too late to go talk to Steve, he was just here—.”

“I know,” he said, eyes streaking to your’s again, “I’ve been watching you.”

“What? Why?” Your brows furrowed, aggression sparking.

“I…,” he trailed off, “…don’t know.”

“Why did you come to me and not Steve?” You asked, standing from the couch, he stiffened at your move.

“I don’t know,” he hissed through his teeth, standing square to you and taking a step forward.

Instead of backing away from him, you took a step towards him as well.

You glared at each other for a moment before you backed down, “Okay okay,” you relaxed with a sigh, turning from him while running a hand through your ponytail, “Let’s just calm down. You said you needed help?”

Making your way to the kitchen, you heard him quietly follow behind you.

“What’s going on?” He asked quietly after a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t understand…I don’t remember…,” he trailed off again, “…I don’t know who I am. The man in the museum, ‘Bucky’, that’s not me, that can’t be me.”

His stature softened as he looked away from you and to the floor, confusion clouding his eyes. His eyes burned holes in the floor as he tried furiously to remember something, anything about who he was.

“Look, Barnes,” you started gently, limping towards him slowly, “Hydra did horrible things to you, they fried your brain. It’s going to take time for you to heal, to get your memories back. You’re not going to remember everything in an instant.”

“I remember you,” he murmured, barely above a whisper.

You blanched. What did he remember? How could he possibly remember what happened all those years ago in the desert? He couldn’t. Could he?

“Remember me from where?” You asked, your chest tightening.

“The vault,” he answered, glancing up at you again his eyes hardening, “You were talking with one of _them_ , what were you doing there?”

He tensed up again, becoming twice his size; like an animal when threatened. His brows furrowed into a deep V as he approached you again, his jaw clenching in anger.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” you stuttered, realizing he wasn’t about to slow down as he kept coming closer to you, “You knocked me out and took me there remember?”

He shook his head, coming closer.

“Look, I don’t know who he was, he wanted information on the Helicarriers before they sent you in. I built them, I know them inside and out.”

He froze, looking you over and relaxing again, believing your fib.

“Who are you?” He asked, searching your eyes.

“First Lieutenant (F/N) (L/N), United States Marine Corps. Retired of course.”

Out of habit, you outstretched your hand to him in greeting. He glanced at it for a second before reciprocating your action. Slowly, and ever so gently, he took your hand and shook it. You nodded with a smile when he let go, knowing you were making some progress with him.

“Okay,” you said, mostly to yourself while turning away from him, “What’s your plan?”

There wasn’t an answer from him as you began brewing a couple cups of coffee.

“I’d stay low and get outta town if I were you,” you said, looking back to him, he nodded in agreement. Any shade of anger that had riddled his face was gone, replaced instead by deep thought. He was still incredibly stiff, not trusting you enough to let himself relax.

“They’re flashing my face all over the city, I won’t be able to stay hidden for long,” he mumbled.

“And Steve’s expanding his search,” you informed him, “I tried to keep him off your back, but it’s not going to work much longer.”

Bucky let out a low groan before sinking into a chair at the dining table. Silence filled the air once more as you finished up the coffee and he sunk deeper into thought.

You gently set down a steaming cup in front of Bucky and sat in the chair beside him.

“The Avenger’s headquarters are in New York,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee, “Steve will be heading back soon. I’d recommend staying away from there, or any big city for that matter.”

“Small towns could be worse,” he sighed, gingerly taking the cup into his hands, “Harder to blend in there, people will get suspicious.”

“Not if you know someone there to vouch for you,” you contemplated, taking another sip.

He squinted up at you, “Like who?”

“Me,” you answered simply, he quirked an eyebrow at you, “Look, as soon as I’m out of this cast, I’m outta D.C. I live in a small town a couple days drive from here. You could hide out there if you want to and nobody would think anything of it.”

Eyeing you warily, he shook his head.

“People always ask questions,” he started with a scowl.

“Not if you have the right answers,” you finished, setting down your cup and standing from the table, “You hungry?”

He eyed you for a moment longer before nodding his head.

——————————

The water bubbled violently on the stove in front of you but was subdued once you added a cupful of rice and a cube of bouillon.

“My Uncle left me his auto shop when he died,” you said absentmindedly, watching Barnes from the kitchen, “I get quite a bit of business and I could use some help.

Pulling out two eggs from the fridge, you cracked them both into the broth before turning back to him, “I’d pay you too.”

“Why?” He asked, rising from his place at the table and entering the kitchen.

“To help you get back on your feet,” you shrugged.

“No,” he said, “Why are you helping me?”

“Because…I don’t know…It seems like the right thing to do.”

He scoffed at your answer, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Look, Barnes,” you sighed, slowly stirring the soup in front of you, “I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t see a lot of options for you at this point. You could go off on your own and try to make it, but without help, you’re not going to make it far. Not only is Steve looking for you, the Government is looking for you too and who knows what Hydra is up to.”

Bucky didn’t answer as you finished up the soup in front of you and gathered bowls from the cupboard.

“What if they find me?” He asked suddenly, looking up to you, “What would you do then?”

“They? As in Hydra?” You said, he nodded and you shrugged, “Fight. It’s what I always do.”

He scoffed again, standing from the table and approaching you, “You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

“Listen here, Soldier Boy, I am fully capable of taking care of myself,” you snapped, snatching spoons from a drawer and turning on your heel to face him. A small growl escaped his lips at the new nickname you had given him.

He’d gotten surprisingly close in the amount of time you had turned your back to him, attempting to test your resolve. The two of you sized each other up for a moment before he finally backed down, knowing you weren’t going to.

“I’m not scared of you, Buck,” you said, pouring soup into the two bowls and following him to the table.

“You should be,” he said simply, watching every move you made.

“But I’m not,” you asserted, sliding a bowl to him along with a spoon, “I’ve dealt with aliens, super soldiers, spies, and Tony Stark; trust me, Bucky, I can handle you.”

He looked up at you from his soup, “Aliens?”

“It’s a long story,” you sighed, downing a spoonful of the warm liquid, “You’ve missed a lot, Barnes.”

The two of you ate in silence for a while and you refilled his bowl a couple of times, making sure he had enough. Outside, the night waned on. Crickets chirped softly outside and a neighbor’s dog barked at something unknown. You glanced at the clock on the oven, 2:00 am, your eyes were beginning to sting from lack of sleep.

“What’s your plan?” You said again, washing the dishes and glancing back at him.

“I don’t know,” Bucky answered simply, meeting your eyes.

“How about you stay the night, get cleaned up and have a good night’s rest, and you can figure it out tomorrow?”

“Okay,” he nodded almost immediately. You raised an eyebrow at him, not thinking he would respond that quickly, he noticed your gaze, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I don’t stand a chance if I don’t have any help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, setting down the dishes and wiping your hands on a towel, “Let’s get you some pajamas and into the shower. You stink, dude.”

For the first time, you saw the corner of his lips curl into a smirk and his face finally relax. His eyes seemed to lighten a bit, losing their cold gaze.

“C’mon,” you motioned toward the basement, “I got a whole box of stuff you can go through.”

You led him down the stairs to the concrete basement, flicking on the light when you reached the bottom. During your sleepless nights, you had begun to pack your things, so now a maze of cardboard boxes lined the floor. Wading through the labyrinth, you found the box you needed and handed it off to Bucky, who eyed it strangely.

“Who’s ‘Danny’?” He asked with a tilt of his head, studying the box.

“My ex,” you waved him off cooly, even though a knot tightened in your stomach, “We broke up and he never came back for his stuff.”

You motioned for him to set down the box on a table in the corner before you eased it open. You pulled out everything from coats and pants to socks and underwear; even an old toothbrush wedged into a sock.

“I’ll get you a new toothbrush,” you said in disgust, tossing it over your shoulder with a flick of the wrist. After searching for a couple of seconds you let out a triumphant laugh and produced a pair of pajamas from the bottom of the box. You handed them to Bucky, who took them gingerly from your hands and looked them over, running the black plaid fabric through his fingers and looking at the white T-shirt.

“Thank you,” he murmured, still petting the fabric.

“You’re welcome,” you smiled, grabbing the box and motioning for him to follow you, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

——————————

It had been surprisingly difficult to coax him into the shower, only God knew how long it had been since he had taken one. You had turned on the water, adjusted the temperature to his liking and shown him the controls before leaving him to his own devices. While he was washing up, you tore through your linen closet attempting to find extra bedsheets and pillows. You found them eventually on the bottom shelf under a fluffy quilt your grandmother made you.

After making the couch into a bed, you stood back and took a breath. That’s when the panic hit.

What were you thinking?

You had just invited a highly confused, highly trained, super soldier amnesiac into your home. Not only that, you offered him to come with you to your hometown.

What the hell?

You’d seen what he was able to do first hand and there was no doubt in your mind that he could break you like a toothpick.

Rocking back and forth on your heel with a sigh, you listened to the running water in the bathroom before limping to the dining table.

What if he reverts back to the Soldier? What would you do then?

Sure, you could hold your own with him when you were 100%, but with a broken leg? He’d kick your ass into next Monday.

Sitting down at the table, you hung your head into your hands.

What about Steve?

You were essentially a double agent, a move you were sure would come back and bite you in the ass. You were _lying_ to _Captain America_ for Christ’s sake! He was going to kill you when he found out you were secretly harboring his fugitive friend.

In the distance, you heard the shower turn off.

A low moan escaped your lips as you slid your hands down your face in despair. You really needed to learn how to think before you did something; a problem you’ve always had. Columbia been a prime example.

“I can leave if you want,” Bucky’s somber voice came from behind you. He must have heard your quiet lament.

“It’s not you, I promise,” you sighed into your hands before turning to him, “How was the shower?”

“It was…good,” he paused, trying to find the words he wanted to use.

He looked a lot better than you had anticipated. All dirt and grime had washed away, he was beginning to look like a regular person instead of the living dead. You smiled, rising from your seat and looking him over more thoroughly. The pajama pants fit him perfectly, but the shirt hugged him more than you thought it would; showing off his built figure. You smirked, he looked good.

“Awesome,” you smiled, “I made up the couch for you, but you can have the bed if you want.”

“No,” he said, glancing at the couch, “This will be fine.”

“Quicker escape route if you need it?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

He nodded, his eyes flicking between the front door and the couch, already making an exit strategy in case he needed it. After a moment he sat down on the couch and looked up to you.

“I’ll just be in the room at the end of the hall, if you need something, don’t be afraid to ask,” you said, beginning to leave the room.

He nodded again in understanding, gently taking one of the blankets and running it through his hands.

Softly, you turned your back to him and made your way to your room.

“(F/N)?” He called quietly, your name rolling slowly off his tongue.

“Yeah?” You asked jumping back into the living room.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours.

“Anything for you, Soldier Boy.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shit, ya made it through another chapter! Way to go!
> 
> Lemme know what you thought!
> 
> <3~Darke


	13. Flashback 2: Crimson Octopi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You turned the book to the last page and paused again. Sketched on the page was an image you had seen somewhere before. A skull with tentacles grinning threateningly up at you. It made absolutely no sense. Tossing the notebook away, you began going through the drawers again.
> 
> You pulled out file after file and glanced at the pages, it was all patient files, like you would find at the doctor’s. The first pages were pictures of the patients and then physical descriptions along with handwritten notes, the last page was a results page. It was written in dense medical grammar you couldn’t comprehend, but it didn’t look good.
> 
> Every file you pulled out had the same words at the end of the results page:
> 
> Experiment Failed. Subject Deceased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Part One](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6958552/chapters/19915585) in case you need a refresher :)

> “When things get out of control and everyone around you is screaming and losing their minds, look for the quiet one and stick to him. He’s fixing to cut fence and sort some bastards out.”

——————————

**Somewhere in Columbia**

**——————————**

When you finally came around, you found yourself hanging from a giant metal hook in the middle of a rundown barn. You were hanging just far enough above the straw covered floor, that the tips of your toes could barely touch the ground. Most of your weight was hanging from your wrists, the tips of your fingers were beginning to turn a dangerous shade of purple from loss of circulation. A head-splitting migraine graced your brain, the sunlight that filtered in from the gaps in the wood sent ticks of pain to your head, causing nausea to fill your stomach. Looking around the barn, you found yourself to be unguarded, but you could hear muffled voices from outside telling you that your weren’t alone. Seizing the opportunity of being alone, you tested your bonds for weak spots.

You were held off the ground by mere rope, tied in intricate, heavy duty knots around your wrists and slipped onto the hook. If you could get enough leverage, you could slip off the hook and onto the floor, but without some help, it was next to impossible to get over the lip. Twisting your wrists, you quickly tried to find a weak spot in one of the knots, only to fail spectacularly. Whoever tied this knot knew what they were doing. You let out a low groan and turned back to your surroundings.

Large bales of hay and straw were stacked up against the side of one of the walls, precariously balancing atop each other. Dust particles were illuminated by light that trickled in from slits in the blue paint chipped wood and the distinct smell of cow manure emanated from a pile smooshed in the corner.

While you were turning to see the entire expanse of the barn, you heard a small moan from beside you. In all your focus to get out of your bonds and take in your surroundings, you failed to notice the skinny red-head that was suspended next to you. You watched as he slowly cracked open one eye, then the other, and looked around.

“You okay, Ollie?” You asked softly, turning on your toes to face him.

“No,” he croaked loudly, your stomach fell as you saw dried blood matting his fiery hair.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” you sighed sadly, “This is all my fault.”

“Damn right,” he yapped aggressively while twisting to face you, the anger in his voice catching you off guard, “If you would have just followed the Commander’s orders we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“I know, I know,” you murmured quietly, hoping the guards outside didn’t hear his outburst, “I promise, Ollie, I'll get you outta this.”

He scoffed to himself with a shake of his head, “What the hell were you thinking?” He yelled at you suddenly, his eyes darkening in fury.

“I was thinking we’d get better info if we had ears on the inside.”

“I meant opening the damn crate, that’s what got us caught,” he hissed.

“Oliver, hush,” you whispered, hearing the voices outside grow quiet, “And what do you mean _I_ got us caught? You’re the one that planted the bug that they found.”

“You’re the one that told me to, even though I don’t have any field training.”

“It’s common sense, Rookie! You put it somewhere they don’t find it.”

“I tried! It may come to a surprise to you, (F/N), but not all of us went to a year of stealth and tactics training.”

“Training that is _required_ to be a part of Aftermath,” you snapped, throwing all caution to the wind, “You’re telling me that they didn’t send you to training?”

“No,” he barked loudly, his voice echoing off the walls, “I’m not supposed to be a field agent, I’m a Cryptological Network Warfare Specialist. I work inside not outside!”

“I cannot believe Weston would send me out with such an amateur,” you snarled.

“Maybe if you would have followed orders, just once, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

You were just about to fire back an insult when the door behind you slammed open. Ollie glanced at you with wide eyes as a group of men entered the barn.

There were six of them, all staring at you like you were a piece of meat. They whispered to each other in Spanish, thinking you couldn’t understand them. You did and you didn’t like what they were saying. One of the men approached you and took a handful of your hair in his hands, yanking your head back to look at the ceiling. He began taunting you with a purr as his face came closer to yours.

You scowled at them, insurmountable aggression coursed through your entire being

The man took a knife from his belt and waved it in front of your face with a smile.

“Pretty woman,” he hummed in broken English, rows of rotting teeth smiled at you. A low growl left your throat, warning him to back off, instead, he grinned and turned to his friends with a laugh, “Chica tiene mordida.”

That was it, you’d had enough.

As soon as his back was turned, you struck. Putting all of your weight on the ropes that bound you, you swung your feet behind you, flinging them up over his shoulders and crossing them around his neck. A disgruntled yell left his lips as you used the leverage to free yourself from the hook. You fell backward, still strangling the man with your legs and you rolled off him quickly as his friends came at you. Rolling over your shoulder, you left him stunned as you returned to your feet with your hands still tied. His friends surrounded you, one was armed with a machete, one a pistol, another a baseball bat.

“Vamos a bailar perras,” you smirked, bringing your secured hands in front of you.

Two of them looked at each other before coming at you. One of them went low while the other went high. You were able to dodge one, but the other tackled you around the waist, with both your elbows you struck him in the back repeatedly until he let you go. Another came at you with a knife drawn, as he slashed downward you popped up your hands to shield yourself. You caught the knife in between your wrists and in a smooth motion, you severed the rope holding them together.

With your wrists freed you grabbed the man, one hand under the chin and the other grasped the back of his head, you twisted with an upwards angle. A successive crunch sounded as the man went limp and you stole his knife. With a flick of the wrist, you threw the knife, underhanded, into the person closest to you; hitting him square in the chest. He went down in a heap while you turned your attention to the others. You had two dead, two stunned, and two on the move.

The man with the bat came at you first. He swung the weapon swiftly, trying to connect it to the side of your head. You ducked, feeling the bat barely miss. From your crouched position, you lunged for his waist and tackled him to the floor. Winding up for a punch, you were yanked backward by both arms. You were on your knees being held down by the men you had stunned while the other got up. He grabbed the baseball bat you had knocked away from him and twirled it in his hand. Bringing the weapon over his head he swung down towards you.

You flinched away, turning sideways so your shoulder took most of the blow. A yelp left your lips as he wound up for another hit. Your eyes flitted around the room trying to figure out a maneuver to get out of this. The bat contacted again, hitting your shoulder in the same place. You kicked one of your legs out, knocking into one of your attackers’ knees. A solid ‘crack’ came from his knee as you twisted away from the other man and to your feet again. ‘Bat’man swung downwards at you again, but this time you caught the bat and ripped it away from him.

Using the momentum from stealing the bat, you struck the other man still standing. He crumpled to the ground while you turned to your other opponents. Four down and two to go. You tossed the bat to the side as you looked over the last two. One was unarmed, the other had a small pistol in his waistband he seemed to have forgotten about. The second you eyed it, he remembered. As he reached for the gun you ran towards him. He unholstered the weapon before you got there, but before he had time to aim for you, you grabbed his wrist and wrenched it up out of the way.

A shot rang out from the firearm as the two of you fought for control. You elbowed his windpipe and kicked him away, keeping a strong hold on the gun. Turning to face the last man, your heart dropped. He’d taken the machete from one of his fallen friends and held it harshly against Oliver’s neck.

“¿Qué vas a hacer ahora, perra?” He taunted, “Baja el arma.”

“Oliver, move your head a little to the left,” you ordered, pointing the gun at the man.

With his eyes squeezed shut, Oliver complied. As soon as he did, you fired. The machete clattered to the floor followed by a heavy thump and a relieved sigh from Oliver. You scowled in anger before turning to the other stunned men and firing three more shots.

——————————

“Thanks, (F/N),” Oliver said, rubbing his wrists after you cut him loose from his binds.

“No problem Rookie,” you said, twirling the baseball bat in your hands and rubbing your shoulder. You took a look around the barn, trying to form a strategy for the two of you. You’d left the bodies where they had haphazardly fallen, but stripped them of all their weapons. Now a machete and an almost spent pistol hung from your belt and a pocket knife was stuffed in one of your pockets. You turned the bat over in your hands once more before tossing it over your shoulder, it was too bulky and would only slow you down.

“Lieutenant?” Oliver asked suddenly after tip toeing around the bodies to your side.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean what I said about it being all your fault. You were right, I should’ve placed the bug in a better spot,” he looked to the ground sadly, too embarrassed to look you in the eyes.

“No Ollie,” you sighed, massaging your shoulder again, “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought it through. I shouldn’t have put you in harm’s way like that.”

Oliver looked up at you with doleful eyes, “We’re gonna get out of this right?”

Before you could answer, the barn door burst open. Like a cowboy in the Old West, you quickly drew the pistol from its holster and aimed at the intruders.

“Danny?” You asked, recognizing the two shapes coming through the door, “Turner?”

The two boys looked at you in surprise, as you lowered your firearm and they looked around the barn. They were dressed in their black combat gear and armed with assault rifles that hung loosely at their sides.

“¡Oh Dios mio! Querida, are you okay?” Danny cried, losing all his composure and sprinting to your side. He scooped you up into a tight hug before whispering harshly in your ear, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” You exclaimed, tearing yourself out of his embrace, “How was I supposed to know they’d find the bug?”

“Your orders were to watch from a distance,” he barked, “Not get caught. This whole operation is in jeopardy because of you.”

“What?” You stuttered, “In jeopardy? I didn’t give you guys away Danny, they have no idea where you guys are or when you’ll attack.”

Gonzalez scowled at you, “You should have just followed orders Lieutenant.”

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t. So get over it and let’s get this done,” you seethed, “What’s the plan, Danny?”

“Nighthawk,” he corrected, “It's need to know and you don’t need to know. Your orders are to take Private Walsh back to the city and stay there until we decide to come get you.”

“What?” You screeched loud enough to wake the dead, “Weston’s benching me? He can’t do that, I—,”

“Weston isn’t benching you,” Danny said softly, reaching for your shoulder, “I am. You’re in no fighting condition and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Not in fighting condition?” You hissed, swatting his hand away, “Not in fighting condition? Fuck you, Gonzalez! I just kicked some drug goonie ass! I’m in perfect fighting condition! I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re taking Walsh back to the city. That’s an order _Lieutenant_ ,” he yapped, turning away from you and heading to the door.

“This is bullshit, _Captain_ ,” you called, hands clenching in and out of fists.

“I outrank you, Lieutenant. You _will_ follow _my_ orders,” he hollered, almost ripping the barn door from its hinges as he marched out of sight.

A harsh growl from escaped your throat as he disappeared and your eyes narrowed in anger.

A silent Turner slowly moved from the corner he had been hiding, fully expecting you to turn that argument into a full-blown fist fight. Keeping his eyes on you, he carefully moved closer, eyeing you like you were a rabid animal.

“I’m going to kill him,” you snarled, glaring up at Turner; stopping him in his tracks.

“I have no doubt about that,” Turner smirked, keeping his eyes on you and reaching into his pocket. He produced a slim, silver phone and handed it to you, “We’ll contact you with the location of the rendezvous point after we burn the plantation and destroy their headquarters.” He explained before following Danny out the door.

You stood there glowering for a minute, spinning the phone in your hands before turning to where Oliver had been. Only to find that he had disappeared.

“Ollie?” You asked, puzzled.

“Are you done fighting?” His muffled voice came from the stack of hay.

“Yes?” You said, following his voice.

“Okay. Good,” he said, sliding out from behind a couple bales. You looked at him confused and he caught your look, “I just watched you kill six people, I really thought you were going to make Captain Gonzalez your seventh.”

“I’m still thinking about it,” you said.

“What’re we going to do?” Ollie asked, dusting hay off of himself, “Are you going to follow Captain’s orders?”

“Oh come on Ollie,” you groaned in exasperation, “You know me better than that.”

“It’s a no isn’t it?”

“Rookie, where I come from its called a Hell No.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

——————————

“This is a stupid idea,” Ollie huffed from behind you as he followed you deeper into the forest.

“Shut up, Oliver,” you sighed, trying to find tire tracks in the dry dirt.

“Why can’t you just follow orders?” he whined, sidestepping over a fallen log.

“I have issues with authority,” you hissed, being careful not to step on any dry twigs that lay on the ground, “And because there’s no way Weston would ever let Danny bench me, I’m his favorite.”

“Yeah right,” Oliver said with a roll of his eyes.

You sent a glare his way before stopping in your tracks, off in the distance you heard a group of voices, “You hear that?”

“Sounds like it’s coming from over the hill,” he nodded.

Staying low to the ground, you crept up and over the hill; crouching down into the brush.

“These guys don’t look like they’re part of the drug cartel,” Ollie whispered over your shoulder.

“No,” you said, taking in the sight below you.

The valley down below was teeming with activity, black jeeps and trucks were zipping around a well-camouflaged base that sat low to the ground. Large semi tractor and trailers backed up to the compound’s loading dock with men in white lab coats directing a flow of cargo boxes onto the vehicles. Some of the men were dressed in bright yellow radiation suits, gently loading containers with flashing lights into refrigerated trailers. Swarming around the entire valley were black-clad mercenaries with the biggest machine guns you had ever seen.

“This must be some kind of government compound,” Ollie said under his breath, surveying the scene.

“Just sitting here, barely miles away from cocaine fields?” You asked, brows furrowing, “I don’t think so.”

Slowly, you began creeping down the hill to get a better look. Oliver put his hand on your shoulder to stop you. You turned to him with a scowl and he shook his head, not wanting you to get any closer in fear of being caught. Shrugging him off you continued your journey to the bottom of the valley.

The closer you got the more you realized how small the compound was, and how low to the ground it had been built; the semis barely had enough room to maneuver under a bay door. The building was painted a deep green, easily masking itself inside the canopy of trees surrounding it. Large satellite dishes were concealed in the southern corner, also painted a shade of green and draped in camouflage netting. There were no windows on the building, only the bay door on the northern face.

Reaching the valley floor, you dove behind a large bush and silently watched a guard go by. You felt Ollie crouch down beside you as the guard disappeared.

“This isn’t smart, (F/N),” he warned in your ear.

“What isn’t smart is letting this go without investigating it,” you said gesturing to the whole base, “It looks like some sort of bunker. See how low to the ground it is? And how small? There’s no way a building this size could house that many people. There’s gotta be more underground.”

“You’re not going in are you?” Ollie groaned, already knowing the answer.

“I—,” you paused as another vehicle pulled up. Watching as it’s occupants filed out. You gasped. From out of the vehicle stepped a man. The man.

He was wearing a grey business suit with a dark grey tie. Thick framed, square glasses hung precariously off the end of his long vulture-like nose. Black and white hard was slicked back into curls at the nape of his neck.

“That’s him!” You said in hushed excitement, “That’s the guy that was gonna buy Aerocell!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about shooting him.”

Business Suit Man quickly made his way through a sea of guards and scientists before disappearing into a base. You watched him carefully as he did so. The crowd of people parted for him like a hot knife through butter, casting scared glances at each other behind his back.

“Don’t do it,” Oliver hissed as you rocked onto your toes, “We’re alone here, you don’t have any backup.”

“I can’t leave it be,” you whispered back before reaching into your pocket and producing the silver phone Turner had given you, “Take this and head towards the city,” you instructed pointing in the general direction of Medellin, “Get to the rendezvous point with the team.”

What about you?” He asked worriedly, cautiously taking the phone from your hands.

“I’ll catch up,” you shrugged, watching was another guard turned the corner.

“And if you don’t?”

“I will,” you emphasized, “Don’t worry, I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”

Ollie was about to object when you pushed off the ground and took off toward the base.

You easily baseball slid under an unused Jeep, glancing back, you saw Oliver’s fiery hair disappear into the forest. Turning back to the bunker in front of you, you slowly army crawled to the front of the Jeep. Waiting for the next guard, you watched the people working around the bay door carefully.

From you position, you were finally able to see inside the bunker. Bright white walls and lights caused stacked metal boxes to gleam from where they were strewn. The concrete floor sloped downward the farther back it went into the bunker. Two elevators stood next to each other in one of the corners, while an access stairway sat alone in the opposite corner.

Business Suit Man was talking idly to one of the many men in lab coats. You watched as he curtly cut off the conversation with a dangerous smile, then disappeared into one of the elevators. The Lab Coat he had been talking to walked toward one of his colleagues with frightened eyes before returning to his work.

Another guard passed you and you decided to make your move. You darted out from under the Jeep and to a semi-trailer being loaded. Carefully, you ducked under the trailer, following it to the mouth of the bay and then crouched behind a metal crate. While the driver of the truck had a Lab Coat sign some papers, you ran to the next crate and waited for the next opportune moment to slide to the next one.

You gingerly made your way to the access stairwell, barely making it with out being spotted. Slipping behind to the door and into the stairwell, you marveled at the silence before you. Contrast to the upper bay, the stairwell was dark and quiet. Silently, you made your way down the stairs and after every flight, you checked the next level’s door. You found them all locked, perhaps this was a dead end and you needed to come up with a new plan.

Reaching the final landing, you reached out to the last door; expecting it to be locked. To your surprise, it opened in one smooth motion.

The hallway you entered was dimly lit and polished white tiles lined the floor, reflecting the blinking red lights that lined the walls. Looking up to the corners of the ceiling, you saw no security cameras and slowly crept from the shadows of the stairwell. Your footsteps echoed in a rhythm as you made your way down the corridor. Darkened windows lined the white walls and you finally saw your reflection.

You were an absolute wreck. Hay from the barn stuck onto your hair and clothes in odd directions and dried blood cracked on your head and chapped lips. The tank top and shorts you were wearing had small rips and tears along with mud clinging to them and your hiking boots. Shrugging off your appearance you continued down the hall and decided to unholster the pistol from your belt. A single door stood firm in the hallway, slowly you reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Motion detecting lights clicked on upon your entry and you flinched, a finger inched its way toward the trigger of the pistol. You quickly looked around the room and found yourself alone, or so you thought.

Like the main bay of the bunker, the room was bright white and glinting with metallic objects. Scalpels and other sharp shiny things were neatly placed alongside an operating table that was lined with heavy straps. You felt your heart sink as you took in more of your surroundings.

On the far wall were rows of heavy drawer-like doors. You slowly made you way over to the wall and placed your hand on one of the handles. Taking a deep breath you turned the knob and opened the drawer, coming face to face with feet and a toe tag. In a quick movement, you slammed the door shut and backed away, eyes wide.

This was a morgue.

Another deep breath and you scanned the room again. Different chemicals were organized on shelves and a desk sat alone in the corner. Another table sat against the wall with different taps along the center and a sink at the end.

Setting your eyes on the desk, you turned from the rest of the morgue and began rifling through the drawers.

You grabbed a note book first and skimmed through the pages. Chemical formulas were scribbled erratically on every page along with notes that you couldn’t read. Most were crossed out in red ink, except one. The long formula was circled multiple times and you took a while to read it. You turned the book to the last page and paused again. Sketched on the page was an image you had seen somewhere before. A skull with tentacles grinning threateningly up at you. It made absolutely no sense. Tossing the notebook away, you began going through the drawers again.

You pulled out file after file and glanced at the pages, it was all patient files like you would find at the doctors. The first pages were pictures of the patients and then physical descriptions along with handwritten notes, the last page was a results page. It was written in dense medical grammar you couldn’t comprehend, but it didn’t look good.

Every file you pulled out had the same words at the end of the results page:

**Experiment Failed. Subject Deceased.**

You shuddered, placing all the files in a nice stack and glancing over your shoulder, knowing you couldn’t spend much more time here before you had to get moving.

There was one more file at the bottom of the drawer, it was yellowed, fragile paper; Project Rebirth was stamped on the outside. Delicately, you set it on the desk and opened it. This file was different from the rest. Not only was it much older, but the handwriting within was not the same. You glanced at the picture and then the name.

Steven Grant Rogers.

You knew that name. _God, you knew that name._

That was _Captain fucking America_. Your brows furrowed as you delved deeper into the file. And at the end were four words.

**Experiment Success. Subject Alive.**

You slapped the file closed. These guys were trying to create another Captain America, and they were failing horribly. But what if they were to succeed?

No.

You couldn’t let that happen, you couldn’t let the bad guys get their hands on a Captain America. No way, no how.

Glancing around the room again, your eye was caught by one of the taps on the table in the middle of the room and then to the canisters of chemicals on the wall.

You smiled, you knew exactly what you were going to do.

——————————

You sprinted down the hall and to the access stairway.

**Five minutes**

That’s all the time you had to get away before an explosion detonated and destroyed the bunker…hopefully.

You had almost failed high school chemistry, but if there was one thing you could remember, it was how to blow the shit out of something.

As you flew up the last flight of stairs, you unholstered your firearm and readied yourself for the fastest fight and flight of your life. All you had to do was make it across the bay and then commandeer a Jeep, it was that simple.

Of course, nothing was every as easy as you thought it was.

When you burst through the door, you barreled into a Lab Coat, causing him to topple over the steel crate he had been carrying. Blue liquid seeped from the box and began eating away at the floor, making a sizzling sound.

And just like that, all Hell broke loose.

**Four minutes**

The mercenaries acted quickly, sending bullets whizzing past you as you hurtled over more crates and Lab Coats ran for cover. You sprinted for the guard closest to you, popping off two shots at center mass. He crumpled to the floor and you stripped him of his weapons. You snatched a pistol from his side and returned fire at some of the guards before grabbing his rifle and taking off across the bay.

A volley of bullets were sent your way again, causing you to duck behind a box with blinking lights. Bringing your new found rifle up to your shoulder, you peeked around the box and fired a couple of rounds into some of the mercenaries before you were cut off by machine gun fire.

One of the stray bullets sliced through the box and a hissing plume of gas was released. You glanced up to the crate and finally noticed the skull and crossbones painted on the side, along with ‘highly flammable’ next to it. This was going to be a lot bigger of an explosion than you had anticipated.

Taking a chance, you dove from behind it and began running towards the outside again. In front of you were three mercenaries with their weapons raised as they pulled their triggers, you dropped to your knees and slid across the floor towards them. You brought your rifle up to your shoulder again and let off three easy shots before rising to your feet again.

**Three minutes**

Finally reaching the outside, you quickly hopped into a Jeep and turned it over. Despite the onslaught of bullets that pummeled its sides, it roared to life. You stepped on the gas, ripping up dirt as you took off. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him again.

Business Suit Man was just emerging from the building as you took off, he looked at you curiously. One look into his eyes had you pulling a pistol from your waistband and aiming for him. You pulled the trigger.

With a flick of his wrist, he shoved another Lab Coat out in front of him to shield himself. He smiled in realization, with one shot, he knew exactly who you were. The sniper from Afghanistan that had given him so much trouble. Then he frowned in realization, looking back at the base with wide eyes as you sped away, _he knew exactly who you were_. He knew what you were capable of.

You watched in the rearview mirror as he wrangled up a group of mercenaries and hopped into a black SUV.

**Two minutes**

You turned your attention to the road ahead of you, focusing only on getting as far away as you could. Flooring it, you raced down a dirt road and drifted around a corner, kicking up a cloud of dust as you went.

Trees whipped by in a blur as you drifted around another corner and onto a gravel road. From your peripheral, you saw a blur of red and you stomped on the brake. Turning over your shoulder you looked back and then slammed into reverse.

“Ollie?” You yelled into the trees, you swore you saw something.

“Lieutenant?” A call came back.

“Get your ass over here, we need to move!” You screamed at him, eyes flicking up to your mirrors and seeing an SUV roaring down the road towards you.

Oliver emerged from the forest quickly, barely having time to climb into the Jeep before you took off again.

**One minute**

“What’s going on?” He asked over the whistling wind.

“You’ll see,” you answered, speeding up yet again.

The gravel road snaked through the trees in hazardous curves that you navigated with ease.

**30 seconds**

“Ollie, get down,” you said, shoving him down below the dash. He looked up at you confused but complied either way. You lowered yourself as far as you dared, still speeding down the road.

A bright flash lit up the sky, then you felt it.

The vibration on the road made you lose control of the vehicle for a second, the windshield and mirrors shattered and then you heard it.

The sound was deafening, it was a much bigger detonation than you had wanted, but it did the job.

You turned over your shoulder to survey the damage, black smoke curled up from where the bunker had been and some trees were beginning to burn like a struck match.

There wasn’t an SUV behind you anymore.

——————————

“You sure this is the place?” You asked Oliver again.

“It says right here, Rendezvous Metro de Medellin,” he said, showing you the phone again. You nodded, leaning against a wall and scanning the street.

After discarding the weapons you stole, you’d made it to Medellin in a snap, then you abandoned the Jeep and continued to the Metro on foot.

“There they are,” you said, gesturing to a white van pulling down the street.

“How do you know?”

“Weston’s smoking a cigar, you can smell it a mile away,” you answered, pushing yourself off the wall and down the street, “And what did I tell you about the bunker?”

“What bunker?” He said, looking to your for approval, “We followed orders and went straight back to the city.”

“Exactly,” you smiled.

The white van stopped right next to you and the door slid open revealing Danny and Turner. You helped Ollie in and then looked over your shoulder before stepping in yourself.

——————————

A plane’s engine whirred by as your made your way down the tarmac, duffel bag in hand and a scowl on your face. You brushed past Danny on your way to the plane and dropped your bag into your cot before returning to the tarmac to find Weston.

Turner said the mission went well, they were able to blow the base with ease, but they may have set too much C4. He said there was another explosion on the mountain side that may have been connected the Las Serpiente Blanca, but there weren’t for sure.

You hadn’t spoken to Danny.

“Lieutenant, you know that scowl is gonna stick to your face if you don’t stop it soon,” a gruff voice came from behind you.

You stiffened quickly to attention, “Commander Weston, sir.”

“At ease, Lieutenant.”

“Permission to speak to you privately, sir.”

“Permission granted,” he nodded, walking down the tarmac with you in tow, “What’s the problem, Lieutenant?”

“It’s about Captain Gonzalez, sir,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“What about ‘im?”

“Permission to speak freely, Commander,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully.

“Granted,” Weston said, pulling out a cigar and chewing off the end.

“I-I think that our relationship may be putting a strain on the team,” you started, grabbing your dog tags and spinning them through your fingers; a nervous habit you had developed, “I think I need to take leave for a while.”

Weston’s eyes flashed up to yours as he lit his cigar and he shook his head, “I was just about to talk to you about that.”

Your brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You and Gonzalez are getting too attached to each other. You aren't thinking clearly and that's putting the team in jeopardy,” he said, taking a long drag from his cigar, “I think you need to go solo for a while.”

“Sir?”

“I have a mission for you,” he smiled with a puff of smoke, “Solo, in Paris.”

You don’t know where it came from, but he produced a manilla folder and handed it to you.

“An old friend of mine is calling in a favor,” he explained.

“Friend?” You asked, glancing over the file in interest.

“Name’s Colonel Fury,” Weston coughed, taking another toke, “He’s running some sorta circus now and needs some back up for his agents.”

“Oh yeah, what agents?”

“I dunno, an Archer, and a Ballerina or somethin’ like that," he answered, heading toward the plane.

"Huh," you chuckled, taking a look at the personnel files, “Sounds like fun.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JFC, that was a freakin' long one. Whew! But ya made it...hopefully.
> 
> Like I said in the beginning, this was the second part to [Cocaine and Corona](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6958552/chapters/19915585).
> 
> Lemme know if there are any mistakes, I know they're in here somewhere. And lemme know what you thought!!
> 
> <3~Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	14. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Barnes, I’m serious,” you said, grabbing a plate, “You don’t have to be alone anymore, I got your back.”
> 
> He shook his head, “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
> 
> “For God’s sake, Barnes!” You sighed, waving a spatula around the air in frustration, “I’m not a porcelain doll, I’m not fragile. I’ve handled war and I can damn sure handle you.”

 

> “I hate getting flashbacks from things I don’t want to remember.”

——————————

_Sun blazing down, coarse sand on your back and sticking to your entire body as sweat dripped from every pore. Bloody screams coming from all directions. Shadows moving across the light as dust began to swarm around you, it enveloped you like a rough, itchy blanket and dampened all your senses. There was so much pain._

_Nothing._

_Bright white light piercing down onto polished metal tools, smooth cold metal on your back. Calm whispers surrounded you from each side and shadows moved against the light. A thick needle was jammed into your arm, injecting a mystery substance into your veins and dampening your senses. You couldn’t feel the pain anymore as someone murmured into your ear and smoothed back your sweat-soaked hair. You shivered._

_Nothing._

_A firefight; machine guns arguing back and forth as the temperature began to rise. The rhythmic roar of helicopter blades faded away into the distance and a growl of vehicles far off in the desert began growing closer._

_Nothing._

_Silence, complete and utter silence. You were left alone with your thoughts, strapped down to a table with nothing more than silence and your dog tags clasped in your fist._

_Nothing._

_You were left alone with your thoughts, legs pinned under a Humvee with nothing more than flies buzzing around your fallen comrades._

_Nothing._

_“My name is Dr. Novak, I’m going to take care of you now.”_

_——————————_

You lurched from your sleep, trying your best to keep from screaming; you didn’t want to wake the neighbors…again. A sick feeling churned in your stomach as you gripped the sheets in your fists. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought it was going to chisel itself out. It was then you noticed that you weren’t breathing, your chest was tight, only allowing small sips of air in and out of your lungs. You clenched your jaw and relaxed your fists, forcing yourself to breathe despite the tightness. You wheezed out a breath and then another one in. Slowly, your entire body relaxed.

After a couple of minutes, you were breathing normally and with a sigh, you lifted yourself from your bed. Looking at the clock, you rolled your eyes; 5:00 am. You rubbed your eyes as you limped out of your room and towards the living room.

Walking quietly down the hall, you peeked your head into the living room where Bucky was supposed to be.

He was seated in almost the same position you had left him. His metal hand limply held your SIG while the other clutched the blanket that was laying on his legs. His hair was still damp from his shower and his eyes were bloodshot. He was staring at the door with a blank look on his face that made you uneasy.

Slowly, you stepped from the hallway into the living room.

“Barnes?” You asked quietly when he didn’t acknowledge your presence, “Bucky?”

Nothing.

His eyes flicked to you, his grip on the SIG tightening as he looked you over, not a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. You held your hands up in submission, eyeing the gun cautiously, “Buck, it’s me remember?”

Nothing.

His eyes softened but he didn’t answer, instead, he looked away from you and back towards the door.

“James?” You asked again, taking a slight step forward, “Talk to me, are you okay?”

Nothing.

You sighed, pushing away the feeling of frustration edging on your mind before turning to the kitchen.

The sun was barely breaking over the horizon when you looked out the window after grabbing a handful of food from the fridge. You watched as a car slowly drove past your house, it disappeared around the corner before you returned to making breakfast. As you turned to grab a bowl, you almost ran into Bucky, who had snuck up behind you and was staring out the window.

You followed his gaze as he scoped out your neighborhood.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered lowly, searching the streets for signs of trouble, “Too many eyes watching your every move.”

“I agree,” you said with a nod, “There are too many things you have to keep an eye on.”

The two of you stood staring out the window for a few minutes before you snapped the shades shut and returned to breakfast.

“Did you sleep?” You asked.

“No,” he answered, watching you intently as you began scrambling eggs.

You frowned at his answer, then left breakfast on the stove while you quickly brewed coffee. Bucky moved from the kitchen to the dining room gently pulling out a chair and taking a seat.

“You should have woke me.”

“Why?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

You shrugged, “I don’t know…It would be better than sitting out here alone.”

He scoffed.

“Barnes, I’m serious,” you said, grabbing a plate, “You don’t have to be alone anymore, I got your back.”

He shook his head, “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“For God’s sake, Barnes!” You sighed, waving a spatula in the air in frustration, “I’m not a porcelain doll, I’m not fragile. I’ve handled war and I can damn sure handle you.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head again, relaxing back into his chair. You turned back to breakfast and piled an entire panful of eggs onto a plate and then set it down in front of him with a fork.

“Thank you,” he murmured as you turned away from him, you nodded in return and opened the shades once again to look out onto the street.

The streetlights were beginning to click off and a neighbor's sprinklers were turned on. There was beginning to be more movement around the neighborhood as the hour waned closer to six and people began leaving for work. Joggers exited their houses and grouped together before running down the sidewalk, you watched them carefully.

You glanced back at Barnes, he was staring off into space again, in deep thought, slowly picking away at his plate. You poured yourself a cup of coffee.

“What’re you thinking, Buck?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee and watching him.

His eyes flicked to you and he stared for a moment, you kept his gaze.

“I’m…” he paused, “I’m going with you,” you choked on your coffee, “Unless you’ve changed your mind,” he added quickly.

“No, no…” you sputtered with a cough, “I just wasn’t expecting you to say yes.”

“I thought about what you said,” Bucky began, pushing eggs around his plate, “They’re looking for me everywhere, I can’t get over the border without help, and even then, they’re expanding their search. I might as well go somewhere they’d never think to look.”

“A small town in the middle of nowhere?”

“With one of their allies,” he said, looking you up and down.

“Right under their noses,” you scoffed, “That’s smart.”

“As long as you’ve got the heart to keep lying,” he all but growled, making eye contact with you again.

“I’ve been through war, Soldier Boy,” you said, “I have no heart.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know :/
> 
> Lemme know what y'all thought!
> 
> +Updates :  
> +4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	15. Lies and Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What if something goes wrong?" Steve asked after a moment, beginning to pace the room again, "She's on Hydra's radar now, if they find her...She won't be able to hold them off on her own."
> 
> "Hill has done a lot of work to keep her out of the public eye and off the grid."
> 
> "Still," he sighed, plopping down into a chair in a defeated slump, "If they try hard enough, they'll find her."
> 
> Sam shook his head with a grin, "I pity the man who backs her into a corner, she'll tear him to pieces."

> “We wear the mask that grins and lies,  
>  It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— “

——————————  
  
Steve leaned forward in his seat, heaving a heavy sigh while listening idly to the chatter around the doctor’s office. His fingers were rapidly tapping the arm of his chair and his eyes were glued to one spot on the wall in front of him.  
  
“You thinking about him or her?” Sam asked idly from the seat next to him, flipping open a magazine from the pile beside him.  
  
“Her,” Steve said simply, his arms crossing over his chest as he shook his head, “I should never have gotten her into this mess.”  
  
Sam scoffed over the noise of the waiting room, “It wasn’t your fault, Rogers. You gave her a choice and she made her own decision, besides she wouldn’t have had it any other way.  
  
“Still, I worry about her,” Steve said, rising from his seat and clasping his hands tightly behind his back as he began pacing the floor, “I talked to Fury about her...he said she wasn’t in a good place when he found her. I just worry about us leaving and her going home, that she’ll…” he trailed off, looking around the room for the right words he wanted to say.  
  
“Revert back to how she was,” Sam finished with a nod, “Cap, I’ve helped a lot of people and out of all of them, she seems to be the most stable; especially with everything she’s been through.”  
  
Steve shook his head and resumed staring blankly at the wall.  
  
“Look, Steve,” Sam said, leaning back in his chair, "She's tough, not to mention smart, I'm sure she can take care of herself."  
  
"I have no doubt about that, she's saved my life more times than I can count," he chuckled, but his smile faded after a moment.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What if something goes wrong?" Steve asked after a moment, beginning to pace the room again, "She's on Hydra's radar now, if they find her...She won't be able to hold them off on her own."  
  
"Hill has done a lot of work to keep her out of the public eye and off the grid."  
  
"Still," he sighed, plopping down into a chair in a defeated slump, "If they try hard enough, they'll find her."  
  
Sam shook his head with a grin, "I pity the man who backs her into a corner, she'll tear him to pieces." his smiled weakened, "Don't worry about her, there are more important things to worry about."  
  
"Bucky," Steve nodded, "I was hoping since she was the last one to have seen him, he'd seek her out for help. She would have told us if she saw him right?”  
  
He didn’t answer, his manner darkening in an instant; Steve frowned.  
  
“Sam?”  
  
“I hope so,” Sam said finally, “But there are some things that don’t add up.”  
  
“You’ve been talking to Nat too much,” Steve sighed with a shake of his head.  
  
“Romanoff makes some good points, Cap, (F/N) is almost as good a liar as she is a shot, that shit doesn’t come naturally.”  
  
Steve’s frown deepened, maybe Natasha was right and there was something the Lieutenant was hiding.  
  
“Either way,” he said, shaking off the feeling, “I trust her with my life, she’s fought by my side too many times for me to start doubting her now.”  
  
“So has Romanoff,” Sam replied, “Did Fury say anything about what she did in Afghanistan and Iraq?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Maybe you should ask him.”  
  
“That man has more secrets that our entire team combined.”  
  
Sam shrugged, “Maybe it’s time we ask some questions.”  
  
——————————  
  
The sickening high-pitched whir of a cast saw pierced through the air with a blood-curdling scream as it tore its way through plaster cast that was holding your leg hostage. The bright artificial lights in the office made you squint and the smell of the hospital made you gag. You were attempting to calm your anxious mind by staring at one of the anatomy posters on the wall, but it wasn't helping at all.  
  
The saw stopped and you glanced down as the nurse then inserted and plier-type tool into the cast and then pried it apart with a nauseating ‘crunch’. You flinched at the sound. The nurse looked up apologetically as you did. She sheared away the cotton that had protected your skin from the plaster and you returned to staring at the wall.  
  
The past couple of weeks had been interesting, to say the least. You had been juggling between keeping Steve off of Bucky’s tail, prepping for the long drive home, and making sure your “guest” stayed out of trouble. He was still warming up to you, he wouldn’t turn his back to you quite yet and he followed you around like a second shadow. You could feel his eyes watch your every move, which made you uncomfortable at first, but you were getting used to it. He was only trying to understand where he fits in the world, a feeling you weren’t foreign to.  
  
The more time you spent with him, the more you could see the mental likeness between you. Your minds worked the same way and you shared a couple of habits that were left over from the military, but you still couldn’t read him the way you could everyone else. His face was almost always emotionless and he didn’t seem to have any tells. However, sometimes there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite make out. A fragment of a memory bringing a small glimmer to his eye, perhaps?  
  
You didn’t know for sure, but you knew you’d find his tell sooner or later. He’d give it away one day and you’d be able to read him like a book, just like everyone else. With a final ‘snap’ the cast was off and you were free. You had to restrain yourself from leaping off the table you were seated on and bursting out of the hospital in glee. Remaining in your seat, you ‘patiently’ listened to the nurse as she taught you some exercises and then sent you on your way, telling you to “Take it easy for a couple more weeks.” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door to the waiting room and told her thank you.  
  
——————————  
  
Steve stood quickly from his seat, looking Lieutenant (L/N) over with a bit of interest.  
  
She had always stood tall and proud, even when she was in the cast, but now, it seemed like she stood even taller. He could see what Sam saw in her now that there was no obstacle holding her back.  
  
“You good?” He asked, his eyes lingering on (F/N)’s leg for a little longer before looking to her bright eyes.  
  
“I’m fine,” she said with a smile as Sam stood and began heading to the parking lot, “You worry too much, Cap.”  
  
Sam looked at him with a smirk and he rolled his eyes, “I just feel like this is all my fault,” he said as he followed her and Sam outside.  
  
“I accepted the risk when I agreed to break into Fort Meade for you,” she smiled again, eyes and nose crinkling in amusement as she stepped into Sam’s car.  
  
“But now Hydra knows you exist,” Steve said sternly, “They could come after you.”  
  
“For what? Revenge?” (F/N) scoffed, “Please, Rogers, I’m nothing to them. If they’re going to come after somebody, they’re going to go after someone important; they’ll want to make a point.”  
  
“Stop downplaying yourself, (F/N),” Sam said, starting the car and leaving the parking lot, “You made a helluva different in that fight.”  
  
“You guys would have been fine without me,” she sighed leaning back in the front passenger seat and glancing in the mirror to the road behind her; a habit Steve had noticed she had picked up after the ‘D.C. Incident’.  
  
“Still,” Steve said, “You were a great help. You have a lot of talent, kid, and…”  
  
He trailed off, looking at Sam for a second.  
  
“And we’d hate to see it get wasted on retirement,” Sam finished, you frowned.  
  
“Really, Sam?” She said, a small growl in the back of her throat, “We already talked about this.”  
  
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it again,” Sam said.  
  
Steve glanced between the two in uncertainty as (F/N)’s eyes began to narrow and her arms folded defiantly over her chest.  
  
“Done means done, Wilson,” she snarled through gritted teeth, “Same as no means no.”  
  
“Like I said before, you always seem to jump into fights the moment they start. Why not be on a team that responds to threats all around the world?”  
  
“I don’t work well in teams,” she said simply, (E/C) eyes burning holes into the road ahead of her.  
  
“Bullshit!” Sam cried, smacking his hands on the steering wheel in frustration, “You’re a Marine, you’re made for working in teams.”  
  
“Sam,” Steve warned from the backseat, watching as (F/N)’s hands balled into fists.  
  
“What?” Sam asked, throwing his hands up in the air, “I’m just wondering why she hasn’t been giving me straight answers when I ask.”  
  
“Sam,” Steve said again, more urgency edging into his voice while he watched her knuckles begin to turn white.  
  
“Fuck off, Steve!”  
  
“Language!”  
  
“No, you know what,” Sam said turning to her, “I’m beginning to think Romanoff’s right, maybe there is something you’re not telling us.”  
  
“Seriously, Wilson?” (F/N) said, brows furrowing to a deep ‘V’, “You’re going to trust her, a professional liar, over me?”  
  
Sam shrugged, “Maybe if you started talking more, then I would.”  
  
His car pulled into (F/N)’s driveway, she opened the door before the car came to a stop.  
  
“Guess what, Wilson,” she snapped, stepping out of the car, “I don’t need you to trust me, I don’t care anymore.”  
  
Steve heard Sam scoff as he attempted to get out of the car.  
  
“Fine, Birdbrain, you really wanna know why I don’t wanna join your stupid Avengers?”  
  
Steve froze as he looked up at her. (F/N)’s face was red and her eyes were on the verge of tears.  
  
“Because I’ve lost too many friends and loved ones in fights that I couldn’t control. I’ve seen too many people die because I wasn’t good enough or fast enough. You wanna know why I jump into fights? Why I risk my life every chance I get? Because I can’t help but think that sooner or later, I’ll get what’s coming to me; what I deserve for not being where I needed to be or not being fast enough to save my friends,” she paused, balling her hands into fists, “I can’t take losing any more of the people I love.”  
  
She slammed the car door shut and was across the lawn before he could even get out of the vehicle. By the time he got to the door, it was locked and not a sound came from inside the house.  
  
——————————  
  
You slammed the door behind you and locked it quickly, hearing the boys climb the porch steps and begin banging on the door, calling your name. A smirk graced your lips as the tears you had conjured up began to disappear again.  
  
_Damn_ , you were good.  
  
“What the hell was that?” Bucky’s voice came lowly from the dining table.  
  
You held your finger up to your lips with a grin, waiting for the knocking on the door to subside and the boys to leave before you answered him.  
  
He quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“Nothing,” you said simply, “Just trying to put some distance between me and the ‘Saviors of the World’.”  
  
Bucky cocked his head like a confused puppy, “Why would you want to do that?”  
  
“Because distance from me means distance from you, and distance from you means…”  
  
“They won’t find me,” he finished with a nod as he stood and began walking over to you, “Maybe I underestimated you.”  
  
“A lot of people do.”  
  
——————————  
  
“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!” Sam whispered under his breath, “Shit, Cap, I screwed up.”  
  
You think?” Steve asked, sitting down at the counter and taking out his sketch pad.  
  
“I really don’t need your attitude right now, Rogers.”  
  
“Hey I warned you of two things,” he said, pulling out a pencil, “One, don’t piss off (L/N). And two, don’t trust anything Natasha says.”  
  
“Me? What did I do?” Her voice sounded as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.  
  
“You! You told me to ask her why exactly she wouldn’t join and why she’s not openly honest with us.”  
  
“And you didn’t think there would be consequences?” Steve asked, not bothering to look up.  
  
“I—I well…” Sam trailed off as he looked around the room.  
  
“Consequences?” Natasha spoke, “What’d she do? Kick your ass?”  
  
“I—I…well—You see I…”  
  
“He made her cry,” Steve said, looking directly into Nat’s eyes with a pointed look.  
  
“Seriously?” She asked, leaning against the counter.  
  
Sam buried his head in his hands, “I gotta go back and apologize.”  
  
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” the redhead said, glancing over the apartment, “By now she’s done crying and now she’s pissed. She’ll beat you to a bloody pulp if she sees you anytime soon.”  
  
Sam looked at Steve for help.  
  
“I’ll go,” he said, snapping his sketchbook closed and rising from his seat, “You two stay here and Nat, stop giving Sam bad ideas.”  
  
——————————  
  
“Last box,” you mumbled to yourself, setting down on top of another and turning to Bucky, “I pick up the trailer tomorrow and we’ll leave the morning after.  
  
“What’s your drive time?” Bucky asked, running through a mental checklist.  
  
“It would take a normal person 23 hours solid to get there, me? I can get us there in 16.”  
  
“Cameras?”  
  
“The stoplights in the city and most of the tollbooths, but I know a route out of the city and around the booths that will give us a clear route.”  
  
“Sounds like you’ve practiced,” he commented with his arms crossed.  
  
“I don’t like being watched,” you said, looking at the mountain of boxes in your living room.  
  
He nodded his head, moving towards the kitchen window. You pulled out a marker and labeled the box you had just set on the floor. Bucky gently reached between the blinds and glanced outside.  
  
“Are you sure you got rid of Rogers?” He questioned suddenly.  
  
“Yeah, why?”  
  
“Because he’s coming around the corner.”  
  
“Shit,” you breathed, finally hearing the telltale sign of his motorcycle coming closer, “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”  
  
“He’s persistent,” Bucky said, backing away from the window.  
  
“They all are,” you grumbled, beginning to come up with a plan, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”  
  
“I know,” he said, turning from you and disappearing into the house.  
  
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.  
  
Maybe you were a little out of practice.  
  
You hastily turned to your living room, beginning to rip open some boxes and scatter the contents around the room, as though you had flown through the house in a rage; knocking over boxes and creating a mess. With a last look, you flew to the window to watch as Steve pulled his bike into the driveway and jaunted across the lawn to the porch.  
  
In almost the same instant your face changed from its regular façade to the perfect mix of anger, frustration, and sadness. You sped up your breathing and your eyes began to water again as he made his way up the stairs.  
  
Before he could knock on the door, you had it open and were standing inches away from the Living Legend. Your signature scowl worked its way up to his face and your eyes met.  
  
His eyes were wide, he was taking in the full extent of your anger and looking over the mess behind you. He cleared his throat, but before he could say a word, you were speaking.  
  
“Listen, Rogers, I don’t know how many more time I gotta say it before I get it through that thick skull of yours,” you growled through gritted teeth, “But I’m done playing nice. I don’t want anything to do with your Avengers.”  
  
“I know,” he said, putting his hands up in peace, “I came to apologize, I should never have let Sam take it that far. In the last meeting I had with everybody, we agreed to leave you alone, except Natasha. Ever since we had you break into Fort Meade, she’s been suspicious of you. She did a lot of research on you and has come back with virtually nothing, she doesn’t like not knowing every little detail about someone. She got into Sam’s head a little, I should have known she would, and I let it go too far. I’m sorry.”  
  
Your glare softened and you let your stiffened body relax, “It’s okay,” you said with a shake of your head, “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that it’s just that…sometimes I get frustrated with…”  
  
“People not understanding what you’ve been through,” Steve finished with a nod, his bright blue eyes looking at your face as you began to calm down.  
  
“Yeah,” you sighed, running a hand through your ponytail, “Look, Steve, I trust you. And I think you should know the truth.”  
  
He cocked his head at you, his face darkening slightly.  
  
“I served a total of three tours. One in Iraq and two in Afghanistan, my last tour ended in disaster. I was working as a mechanic at Camp Phoenix, near Kabul when I was transferred to a top-secret operations base in the desert. They were building hi-tech vehicles there and needed more hands to help maintain them. My whole squad was sent over and everything was good until a group of Tangos found our base and ambushed us at night. They took out our communications and began going after our Superior Officers. They weren’t going to take any prisoners. One of the Captains and I came up with a plan and my squad executed it perfectly. We were able to get a Sat Phone and call for backup and extraction. By the time the helos got there, half of our troops were dead and the other half were injured. I stayed behind and provided long-range cover to those that were evacuated on the helos,” you paused, to catch your breath and to gauge Steve’s reaction.

His eyes were beginning to widen again and his jaw dropped slightly as you began again, “I was shot seven times. Twice in the shoulder, once in my lung, once in my side, and three times in my legs. I killed fifteen men from the start of the attack until I collapsed from blood loss. I shattered one of my knees, collapsed my lung, broke five ribs, and tore my shoulder out of the socket. Then I was left for dead in the desert for three days before help finally came. They flew me to a hospital on the Bagram Airfield and then flew me home. I was in a coma for four weeks and when I woke up, they debriefed me and gave me an Honorable Discharge. I’m not supposed to talk about the specifics of what happened, there was a big cover-up and they didn’t want any unwanted exposure. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”  
  
“(F/N), I—I didn’t know…” he started, but you held up a hand.  
  
“I lost my entire squad, Steve, I watched them die, all of them. Gone. I’d known them for years, we’d gone to Boot Camp together. They were my family,” you stopped again as you began to shake, “When I came home I was a mess, I started drinking, I wasn’t sober for the three months I was out of the hospital, and then I turned to drugs, it wasn’t pretty. Then Nick came and offered me a job and I just…took it. I didn’t want to fight with you guys when the Chitauri attacked, but I felt like it’s what my team would have wanted me to do. I'm just scared that if I get too attached…or if I start fighting again…”  
  
“You’ll see more friends die,” he finished, you nodded, “I’m so sorry (F/N).”  
  
He pulled you into a hug, you stiffened, you hadn’t been hugged like that in a long time. He held you tight, and you let out a few choked sobs. After a moment, he pulled away and looked you over. You rubbed your eyes, looking up at him.  
  
“I’ll always have your back no matter what, (F/N),” he said, glancing out to the sunset on the horizon, “I’ll deal with the rest of the team, you go home, do what you need to do. But, if you ever decide you want to join, or, if you ever need to talk, you know how to get a hold of me.”  
  
“Thanks, Cap,” you sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve, “I’ll stay in touch.”  
  
“Take care of yourself, Lieutenant,” he nodded, beginning to walk away “And thank you for everything.”  
  
You nodded again, a small smile on your face. Steve walked towards his bike after giving you a little wave, you began to turn away when you stopped.  
  
“Hey, Rogers!” You called before he could leave.  
  
“Yeah?” He asked, running his hands over his bike.  
  
“You ever need someone to come save your ass, give me a call okay?”  
  
He laughed, “Will do, Lieutenant.”  
  
With that he was gone, zooming around the block at breakneck speed.  
  
Damn, you _were_ good.  
  
You smirked to yourself, tears fading away as well as all the jitters you had expertly disguised.  
  
“Damn,” came Barnes’ voice from behind you, “You’re good.”  
  
“I know,” you said, flipping around and heading back inside.  
  
“How much of that was true?” He asked as you blew by him to begin cleaning up the living room.  
  
“You’re smart, Soldier Boy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, y'all made it!! Lemme know what ya thought!
> 
> <3 Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	16. Flashpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did he really think going with her would help him? Did he really think he could stay hidden long enough that he could get better? What if they tracked him down? What if they turned him into a monster again?
> 
> But the real question was:
> 
> Could he really trust her?

> "Don't trust everything you see, even salt looks like sugar."

——————————

желание

Faces. They flashed before his eyes like a strobe light; some calm, others terrified.

ржавый

Noise. There was yelling and screaming all around him. Faint whispers snuck to his ears from behind, slowly speaking in different languages.

Семнадцать

Light. Explosions sounded in front of him while short bursts of gunfire volleyed back and forth from beside him. The flashes from the muzzles illuminated ghostly faces.

Рассве

Cold. A freezing wind chilled him to the bone. He could barely make out a silhouetted mountain range blowing by.

Печь

Yelling. He could hear a fading voice call desperately to him.

Девять

Pain. He was in so much pain.

добросердечный

Cold. It took over his body, he couldn’t fight back.

возвращение на родину

Pain. _He_ had caused so much pain.

Один

Falling. The floor beneath him gave out, and he fell, he fell so far.

грузовой вагон

Whispers. Someone was whispering his name in a thick accent.

“Bucky?” The fading voice came again.

**желание**

“Sergeant Barnes…” The accented voice came again.

**ржавый**

“Bucky! No!” The voice faded again.

**Семнадцать**

“The procedure has already started.”

**Рассве**

“You’re my mission,” he murmured.

**Печь**

“Bucky! Stop!”

**Девять**

“You will be the new fist of Hydra.”

**добросердечный**

“I’m with you…”

**возвращение на родину**

“Put him on ice.”

**Один**

“…’Til the end of the line.”

**грузовой вагон**

“Солдат?”

“Готов к выполнению,” he said.

“No,” came yet another voice.

She was tied to a chair in front of him.

“Kill her,” a voice came from behind him.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes,” she said.

There is no fear in her face, it's blank and cold, a mirror image of him.

“You’re my mission.”

“I’m not gonna fight you,” she murmured, (E/C) eyes still looking into his.

“Солдат?”

“Нет.”

——————————

Bucky jerked himself awake, almost falling off the couch in the process before he let out a low groan. Hanging his head in his hands, he took a deep breath. The dreams were getting worse, he was getting way too close.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw (F/N)’s bedroom light flick on and her shadow make its way down the hall before she appeared.

She had a USMC sweatshirt on with a pair of baggy sweatpants barely hanging onto her waist. She rubbed her eyes groggily before she spoke.

“You okay?” She yawned, her messy bun flopping around on top of her head as she cocked it to the side.

Had she heard him?

He nodded in response, shoving the question to the back of his mind.

“mmmmkay,” she mumbled, turning to go to the bathroom and running into a wall instead.

He held back a snicker as she mumbled, “Who put that there?” to herself.

(F/N) disappeared into the bathroom and Bucky heard the shower turn on after a moment.

He shook his head, why he had gone to her and not somebody else was a mystery to him. Maybe it was because he thought she would give him some answers.

How wrong he was.

She had only left him with more questions…which wasn’t entirely her fault. He was an enigma, not only to others but to himself as well.

He glanced up at the bathroom door as he rose from the couch and moved toward the kitchen.

She had provided some of the answers he needed, but that in turn had raised more questions. All he had was bits and pieces, snippets really. Some days, he would get more, others, he wouldn’t get any.

It was like trying to fit together puzzle pieces from five different puzzles with half the pieces missing; utterly frustrating.

Dreams were the main source of the ‘snippets’. They were fragmented flashes of the past, coming and going in his mind, sometimes popping back during the day for a short visit before disappearing again.

He heard the shower turn off as he poured himself a glass of water, gently trying to shake off the frustration of his shattered memory and the coldness he had felt in his dream. Not physical cold, but mental and emotional cold. It scared him that he could wake up and feel the same way he had felt after they had said the words. Cold. Blank.

Damn those words! If only he could get rid of them. Erase them from his mind indefinitely and be free to do what he wanted when he wanted.

“James?” (F/N)’s voice came from behind him, her tone suggesting she had said his name more than one. He turned to face her, “You sure you’re okay?”

She was already dressed for the day; black jeans with grey combat boots laced over the top and a long-sleeved shirt. Her signature dog tags clanked together as she finished putting her hair into a neat bun.

“I’m fine,” he grunted lowly, turning away from her.

He barely heard her close the distance between them, damn her newly healed leg. Now he couldn’t hear her hobbling through the house.

She startled him when she whispered in his ear.

“Liar.”

He resisted the urge to push her away, “You’re one to talk.”

She scoffed, backing away from him with a smirk.

“Most of it _was_ true,” (F/N) insisted, her eyes playfully catching his.

He didn’t bite.

“You know I’m going to find out sooner or later,” he warned, turning square to her with his broad shoulders. Her smile grew brighter.

“I know,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, grabbing her keys from the counter, “I’m gonna go pick up the trailer, you need anything?”

He shook his head.

“Okay,” she shrugged, grabbing her leather jacket from the back of a chair and twirling the keys in her hand, “I should be back in an hour, two hours tops. I laid out some clothes for you in the bathroom and there’s food in the fridge.”

He nodded.

With that, she was gone, a deep rumble sounded from the garage and the black car she treated like a baby was out like a shot. He watched her silently from the kitchen window, a small sigh escaping his lips. As the day grew closer for them to leave the more he began to second-guess himself.

Did he really think going with her would help him? Did he really think he could stay hidden long enough that he could get better? What if they tracked him down? What if they turned him into a monster again?

But the real question was:

Could he really trust her?

He had watched her lie and fake her way through every conversation with Rogers and Wilson. She was convincing enough that sometimes he found himself falling for her lies. If he couldn’t tell the difference between her lying to Rogers, could he tell when she was lying to him? She could totally play Rogers, and he didn’t suspect a thing. The red-head, Natasha, knew something was up, but she didn’t fully understand what the Lieutenant could do, he sure didn’t.

Bucky turned from the window and found his way to the couch.

It made him uneasy, not being able to read her ever-changing face. It was almost as if she could sculpt and shape it into whatever she wished. He could never tell exactly what she was thinking or how she would handle a situation, like the one with Steve last night. She had flown into a whole new mood within a few seconds and had lied so well he found himself believing her. Only he knew better.

He shook his head as he slumped onto the couch, looking around the empty house.

As much as he hated not being able to read her, he felt much more secure in the fact that he was playing a dangerous game with such a skilled player. Not to mention, he actually kind of liked her. She would leave him be, for the most part, wouldn’t ask too many questions, and made sure that he took care of himself. Mostly though, she treated him like a person. She didn’t coddle him and she most definitely wasn’t scared of him, something she had made clear…multiple times. The thing she had given him the most was the simplest, a choice. Something he hadn’t been given in a long, long time.

Rising from the couch he made his way to the bathroom and started the shower.

Maybe that was why he was second-guessing himself, he wasn’t really confident in his decision-making skills, yet.

But something still bothered him, he knew virtually nothing about her, and his lack of knowledge could get him into a lot of trouble.

He had been mulling over asking about her past from the moment he met her. She was much too skilled to be a mechanic while she was a soldier. And then, there was something else about her, something familiar.

So familiar, it was almost as if he’d known her in the past.

Bucky shook off the feeling almost as soon as it came, instead focusing on the heat from the water.

There was no way he knew her, he may have had his suspicions about what exactly she had done, but there was no way she could have possibly gotten caught up with the likes of him.

Still, she was incredibly skilled and besides a couple memories of Steve, she had been the first person he recognized after he had gotten his bearings.

He remembered chasing her and the Widow through the streets of D.C. and how (F/N) had hurled herself at him after he had shot Natasha. She was ferocious, but her face had been so calm during the whole fight he could barely read her next move. If she hadn’t overestimated how much leverage she had, he was sure she would have won.

He could remember sticking a needle in her neck and catching her before she hit the ground.

He remembered seeing he tied to a chair in the bank vault with utter fear written across her face as a man whispered in her ear. Maybe that was the first time he had seen her drop her mask and he had been looking into the ‘real’ Lieutenant (L/N)’s eyes, but he doubted it. She was too good to have dropped it then, she didn’t even know the guy, she couldn’t have been scared of him.

He remembered her and Steve bolting down the catwalk toward him as the Helicarriers tore each other apart. Even if she had just broken her leg moments before, she drug him out from under the fallen beam with all she had.

He had looked in her right in the eyes right before the beam she was clutching snapped and she plunged into the Potomac.

He could remember reaching for her and barely missing.

Bucky shook his head again as he leaned forward into the scalding water and felt it run down his back.

He didn’t know why he had reached for her, maybe it was the look on her face as she rapidly scanned the water for Steve. Maybe that was one of the reasons Bucky had gone after him. Maybe not. He was still trying to piece together the whole memories/feelings thing.

Shutting off the water, he stepped out of the shower and gently pulled a towel from the rack.

There was a part of him that wanted to trust her with everything he had. A part of him wanted to tell her every memory he gained back, all the snippets. But, there was a part of him that knew better. That’s exactly what she wanted.

He could tell she was trying to figure out a way to read him, just like he was waiting for her to give herself away. Two could play this game.

He slipped on the clothes she had laid out for him, left the bathroom and then sprawled out on the couch, still trying to figure out a way to read a mask that grinned and lied.

——————————

You were in a daze, an absolute daze.

With your eyes glued to the roadway, you couldn’t even hear the radio as you drove.

You were sure the guys at the U-Haul place had probably made fun of you for hitching a trailer to the Firebird and you knew you probably made some kind of smartass remark, but you couldn’t remember what it was. Your mind was in other places.

You had heard him scream

That’s what had woken you, the strangled hoarse scream that had come from the living room. You jumped out of bed so quick, you had only been a quarter of the way awake. There had been a few times you had heard him murmur or whimper in his sleep, but this...this was something else entirely.

It was terrifying.

Danny used to have those types of dreams, the type where he would wake up screaming and swinging. You remembered having to hold him down, while Turner did his best to find something to calm him.

Bucky’s scream was different.

Danny’s screams were in fear for what he had done and what he had seen.

Bucky’s were in pain. You were worried that they were getting worse.

You tapped your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, waiting for the stoplight to turn green, totally oblivious to the world around you.

Totally oblivious to the totally ominous black SUV that was obviously following you.

——————————

Bucky was sitting at the dining table with his head in his hands when (F/N) returned. She set the keys down on the table and took off her jacket, she didn’t seem all there. Her mind was in a totally different place. He watched her carefully as she looked at the pile of boxes in the living room and then turned her head to the garage, she was trying to come up with a plan, but it didn’t seem like her mind was working the way she wanted it to.

“Hey, Buck?” She asked, slowly turning to look at him, her eyes looking almost clouded, “Can you help me with the boxes?”

He nodded, reading her face a little more before standing from his seat.

“I got the trailer in the garage, so no one will see,” (F/N) said, almost absentmindedly, moving towards the boxes in a robotic motion.

Something was bothering her. He wanted to ask but was afraid of what kind of answer he would get.

Instead, he followed her lead and grabbed a pair of boxes before loading them up into the trailer. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he watched her for a minute, she couldn’t seem to focus. Working in silence, the pile in the living room quickly began to disappear. Bucky glanced at the trailer, it looked like it was about to overflow, but somehow, despite her inability to focus, (F/N) was able to make it fit.

Turning back to the house he grabbed the last pair of boxes before returning to the garage, he found her leaning against the trailer with her arms crossed over her chest, she was biting her cheek and her eyes darted up to his as he entered.

He stopped in his tracks, his body tensing up slightly; he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“We need to talk,” she declared finally, pushing off from the trailer and clenching her jaw, as though trying to find the words she wanted to say.

Setting down the boxes, he eyed her suspiciously. Would she tell the truth or just spin yet another lie? He decided he didn’t want to find out.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” he said lowly before she had the chance to speak.

She cocked her head to the side, her focus all the sudden sharpening to a pinpoint, her face darkening for a second before they relaxed, “You’re thinking of backing out aren’t you?”

(F/N) spoke quietly, almost disappointed.

“I--,” he paused, clenching his jaw and flicking his eyes around the garage, “I don’t know.”

Her face darkened again, taking a step forward, she waited for him to continue.

“You’re one of the best liars I’ve ever seen, (F/N),” he said, mirroring her move, “And I’ve seen a lot, but you’re different…”

“You don’t trust me, do you?” She asked, squaring her shoulders to him, a hint of hostility in her voice.

“No,” he said simply, “It’s hard to trust a liar.”

(F/N) blinked, clearly taken aback, she looked away from him and to the ground, “I did it to protect you, Barnes.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” She snarled, glaring up at him suddenly and taking another step forward.

“It comes too easy for you,” Bucky barked, her aggression rubbing off on him, “I can’t tell when you’re lying or telling the truth.”

“Then ask!” She snapped, “Do you really think I would lie to you?”

“Yes.”

She blinked again and took a step backward “This is ridiculous. Do you really think I would put my life on the line by taking in you, a master assassin if I was going to lie to you?”

“If you can trick some of the world’s greatest heroes, what would make me any different.”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it's ‘cause you could kill me with your little finger!” (F/N) hissed, taking another step back from him.

“That’s right, I could,” Bucky said menacingly, standing taller and taking a step towards her. A low growl left her throat as she took another step back.

“If you really think you can make it on your own then go,” she spat.

“Fine,” he growled, turning from her and marching back in the house, slamming the door behind him.

——————————

A twinge of guilt bit at your stomach as the door slammed, that was not the way you wanted the conversation to go and you definitely should not have said that. You groaned, quickly following Bucky back into the house, this was going to be a pain in the ass to fix.

By the time you got into the house, Bucky had disappeared. Sighing, you started to move toward that back of the house, where he would usually hide when Steve came to visit.

You were stopped by a loud knock at the door.

Frowning, you took a step towards it. It didn’t sound like Steve or Sam’s knock and Natasha never knocked, so you were a tad confused. Without looking you opened the door.

Two men stood on the porch, they look familiar, but you couldn’t place them.

“Hi,” one of them smiled.

“Hello,” you said, keeping the door partially closed and between you and the two strangers.

“We’re your neighbors, we live right down the street,” he said pointing down the road to a house, “We saw the trailer and figured you might need some help.”

They both smiled brightly, your frown deepened.

“Um--I’m good actually,” you said, beginning to close the door and little further and glancing behind them, there was a black SUV parked on the curb...still running, “I just finished.”

You squinted at them again, trying to figure out where you had seen them.

“That’s too bad, we really wanted to help,” the second said, stepping forward.

“Well, you’re a little late,” you smiled faintly.

God, where had you seen them before?

“Okay,” the first said, glancing to the second.

“Thanks, though,” you smiled, closing the door a little more, “Have a nice day.”

“Oh we will,” the second said, nodding slightly to the first, “You might not, though.”

And with that, you recognized them. They were members of Rumlow’s STRIKE team.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +Updates :  
> +4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	17. Hit and Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You quickly realized that you weren’t going to be able to get out of this by yourself; you took a deep breath and readied yourself to scream bloody murder. You hoped that a neighbor, or someone--anyone would hear you before it was too late. 
> 
> As you let out a cry for help, the man pinning your arms adjusted his hold and clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your screams.

> “It takes two to tango.”

——————————

For a split second, your mind slipped into a frenzy before you snapped yourself back into reality and you slammed the door in their faces. You reached desperately for the lock, but before you could, the door was almost blown off its hinges. One of the men had breached the door with his boot and it swung right into your face, knocking you backward. You felt instantly woozy afterward.

The blow sent you stumbling through the house to the living room. Your eyes went out of focus and began to water while you frantically tried to catch your breath and regain your balance. The two men slammed the door behind them as they entered the house and began walking toward you with triumphant swaggers.

“Stand down,” the first ordered, a smile growing on his face, “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

_“Stand down, Ghost,” the agent said, as you returned to your feet, “We don’t want to hurt you.”_

A long hiss slithered its way through your teeth as you straightened up and rocked into a defensive position with your fists raised, “Bite me.”

The two men glanced at each other and the second shrugged, “If she wants a fight, give it to her.”

_“Speak for yourself,” his partner glared before looking at you, “If you want a fight, so be it. It won’t end well for you.”_

They nodded to each other nonchalantly before they started to circle you.

After a moment of watching you closely, the first lunged at you, attempting to latch onto one of your wrists. You swam easily out of the move, using both of your momentums to send him flying across the room. The second came at you next, his fists raised. You mirrored his position and then decided that you wanted to be the one to throw the first jab. Before you could land the punch on your target, your fist was stopped midair. The first man had already recovered from your blow and was attempting to pin your arms behind you.

He had both your arms pinned before you could retaliate. Using him as leverage, you swung your knees up to your chest and extended into his partner's face, your boots colliding with his nose.

The man sailed across the room and tripped over the carpet, falling flat on his back.

As you came down from your move, you didn’t catch yourself. Instead, you followed through, lifting your legs just enough so they wouldn’t hit the floor. The downward force took the man pinning your arms down with you. As the two of you fell, his grip loosened so he could catch himself. When he did, you ripped an arm away from him and shoved an elbow into his gut. When you crashed to the floor, you rolled away from him, over your shoulder and to your feet.

You leaped over the top of him and towards the garage where your car was waiting, but on the first stride you took, he grabbed your ankle and yanked it backward. You caught yourself before you face planted into the carpet. As you hit the floor you rolled to your back and readied your free leg to kick him in his ugly face, but he grabbed your other ankle before you could attack. You then sat up, reaching over to start clawing at his hands, but this too was cut off.

The second man had recovered from smashing the ground and was trying a different hold to pin your arms. This time it worked. He hoisted you off the ground with a harsh jerk and the other man followed suit. They held you effortlessly off the floor as they moved towards the door and you struggled against them.

You quickly realized that you weren’t going to be able to get out of this by yourself; you took a deep breath and readied yourself to scream bloody murder. You hoped that a neighbor, or someone--anyone would hear you before it was too late.

As you let out a cry for help, the man pinning your arms adjusted his hold and clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your screams.

“Shut up,” he grunted trying to get a better hold on you as you fought against him, “Stop moving.”

The closer they moved to the door, the more you realized that you were screwed and a feeling of dread crawled into your stomach. You knew exactly where they were taking you, back to Novak. Goosebumps ran up your arms, you could feel the cool metal table that he had strapped you to.

_“Come now, Lieutenant, just tell me. I’ll make the pain go away.”_

You could feel the old fashioned leather straps cut into your wrists and ankles as you fought against them. Novak stood over you, he was silhouetted against the single light in the room.

_“Now, now, little Ghostie,” he crooned, smoothing back your hair and whispering in your ear. His breath burned your ears, “Scream for me.”_

You couldn’t go back.

“Hey,” came a low growl from across the room, ripping you out of your panic. You froze, as did your two attackers. In the frenzy of the fight you had forgotten one very important thing, Bucky was still in the house.

The two men didn’t know what to do as Bucky took a long, slow stride into the living room, his posture rigid as he sized both the men up. His steel blue eyes flicked to yours, then back to the men.

“Let her go,” he warned, taking another step closer, his arm glinting in the light as he moved.

As Barnes kept stalking forward, the men’s grip weakened. You used this to your advantage. Breaking one of your legs free, you kicked the first in the jaw. Before he could recover, you quickly twisted your body to kick him in the temple with enough force to send him flying towards Barnes.

Bucky punched him with his metal fist, then grabbed him by his collar and sent him rocketing into the kitchen counter.

You landed easily on your feet and then popped your head up and back into the second man’s face as Bucky started towards you to help. The man released your arms almost immediately and as he did, you realized the first man was already coming at Bucky. He reached into his pocket and produced a switchblade, poising himself to stab Barnes in the back.

You rushed towards Bucky, bumping his shoulder lightly and rolling off his back. When you turned you planted one foot and used your speed to prime yourself for a perfectly aimed kick at the man with the knife. He doubled over when you landed the blow, you then twirled and hit him with a back kick from your opposite leg. The force of the attack sent him crashing into the wall. You backed away from him with your fists raised, as did Bucky from his opponent. His back softly brushed yours as he copied your stance.

“You good?” You called to him, carefully watching your man push away from the wall, knife still in hand

“That’s what I should be asking you,” Barnes muttered, you chuckled.

“I could do this all day,” you scoffed, waiting for the man to come a half step closer, you felt Bucky tense up behind you, “Come on, let’s see what they got.”

He grunted in response before roughly pushing away from you and towards his opponent, you did the same.

The two of you were in perfect sync as you threw around the STRIKE boys. You could switch partners on a whim, easily picking up where the other had left off.

Novak was right, you would make good partners.

It seemed like nothing could stop the two of you…until one of the men pulled a gun.

——————————

There wasn’t much time for you to think before the man pulled the trigger. As he did, Bucky’s flesh arm snaked around your waist and jerked you into his chest. You ducked your head into his shoulder, closing your eyes and hugging his arm to your chest. He raised his metal arm to deflect the bullets and you heard them ricochet off, whizzing past your head. The man fired six rounds, all the while, Bucky was steadily walking towards him with you in tow. Bucky clamped the muzzle of the pistol with his hand, ripping it away from the man and pistol whipping him.

The man stumbled backward, Bucky snarled and began to march forward for another bout while the man tried to regain his bearings. However, you saw a different opening. In the man’s panicked onslaught of bullets, he had accidentally hit his partner, who was now clutching his shoulder in pain. Your hand slipped from Bucky’s bicep to his hand, your fingers interlocking with his as you tugged him back into you. He glared at you with angry, almost animal-like eyes as you yanked him along with you.

The two of you dashed down the hall to the garage and stooped through the door before the men had a chance to follow you.

“Get into the car,” you ordered Bucky as you let go of his hand. You slid smoothly over the hood of the Firebird and to the ground while Bucky dove into the passenger side.

The car roared to life at your command with an aggressive rumble, it and the trailer were out like a shot when you floored it onto the quiet suburban streets. You were out of Suburbia and onto the main road within minutes, all while Bucky watched your back.

“Black SUV on your five o’clock,” he stated, flicking the collar of his jacket up and lowering his head to shield his face from passing cars.

“I see ‘em,” you replied lowly, glancing in the mirror then back to the road; blowing through another intersection. You caught your reflection in the mirror, there was minor bruising pooling under your left eye and your nose was ridiculously swollen.

The traffic light ahead of you turned red and the cars surrounding you began to slow. When you came to a stop, you snatched your phone from the console and a baseball cap for Bucky from the back seat.

“What are you doing?” He asked as you handed him the hat and began scrolling furiously through your contacts.

“We need help,” you said, he eyed you warily as he put on the cap, you caught his look, “I know you don’t trust me Barnes, but for a couple of hours you need to until I can get us out of this.”

He watched you carefully when you found the number you wanted and hit the call button, placing it quickly to your ear.

It rang, and rang, and rang, and…

“Sorry I can’t make it to the phone right now—,” a voice message came from the other end of the line before you hung up.

“Dammit,” you grunted, tossing the phone onto the dash while veering recklessly in front of a minivan. You watched as the SUV behind you duplicated your every move.

“Who are they?” Bucky asked, holding on for dear life while you slipped in front of a semi.

“Part of Rumlow’s old STRIKE team, they were in the bank vault with us.”

What do they want?”

“I don’t know,” you said, almost truthfully.

“You are such a lia—,” he was interrupted when the SUV collided with the back of the trailer.

The impact sent the both of you lurching forward. Bucky flew headfirst into the dash after trying to catch himself with his metal arm. You were caught off guard and hit your head on the steering wheel. Blinking a few times, you tried to get rid of the black spots and stars that were now floating in front of your eyes. A shrill ringing pierced your ears and you could feel your heartbeat pulsing in your head. You groaned under your breath.

_“…Glitch do you read?” You groaned._

_“Affirmative, Ghost, we read,” a staticky voice came from your radio, “Stand by for instructions.”_

_“Negative, Glitch, they’re on my tail, I can’t shake ‘em,” you yelled, a barrage of bullets shattering the rear windshield._

_Glitch didn’t answer, you tore through the streets, scratching cars and nearly hitting civilians._

_“Glitch, acknowledge,” you growled, ducking from another volley of bullets._

_You saw a sign for the Pont Amont ahead of you and slid onto the Boulevard._

_“Glitch, acknowledge,” you said again, more urgency in your tone. You watched the two operatives drift onto the street behind you, the streetlights illuminated the raindrops falling on the road._

_“Glitch, permission to activate Phoenix Protocol.”_

_The vehicle behind you was closing the distance between you by the time you made it to the bridge._

_“Ghost, this is Glitch,” Glitch's voice cut in, “Permission to initiate your Phoenix Protocol granted, see you on the other side.”_

_Your breath hitched for a moment as you decided what to do, “Thanks, Glitch, see you on the other side.”_

_With a flick of the wrist, you swerved towards the side of the bridge and floored it. The concrete barrier was no match for the heavily armored truck you were in, it crumbled. Your vehicle when sailing off the bridge and into the Seine below._

A hand stopped you from flicking the wheel to the left, you blinked a few times, the sunny bridge over the Potomac in D.C. coming into view.

“Hey!” Bucky’s voice growled in your ear, a dark rumble came from the back of his throat.

There was something wrong with his eyes.

You could feel blood running down your temple. Barnes’ glare deepened when you ripped the wheel from his hand and swerved in the opposite direction to take a ramp to the south running highway and then taking an exit ramp. You lost the SUV for only a moment.

“We can get out of the metropolitan area if we take some of the backroads out of the city, that way we can keep civilians out of this,” you said, zooming off the highway onto city streets, “Just keep your eyes on them.”

He didn’t acknowledge you, instead turned his glare to the passenger side mirror.

You zipped past people and buildings before the streets became empty.

“Turn here,” Bucky ordered suddenly, sitting up in his seat and taking in the streets around him.

“Barnes, that’s a dead end,” you said, looking to the street he was pointing to.

“Now,” he grunted, pulling out the firearm he had stolen from the men.

“Okay,” you whipped the car around to the empty street. You watched as he checked how many rounds were left in the clip before he clicked it back into the gun, “Buck, you can’t shoot them, that’ll only make things worse.”

“Stop the car,” he barked, chambering a bullet.

“I can’t let you do this, Bucky,” you said. You could see the dead end approaching on the horizon.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He snarled, you wheezed. Slamming on the brakes in shock.

Before the car fully stopped he was out of the car and raising the gun towards the SUV.

“No, stop!” You cried, slamming the car into park and getting out. You rolled over the hood, trying to grab him before he fired.

Too late.

Barnes fired two rounds beautifully aimed at the two front tires. You grabbed his arm as the SUV skid and flipped over itself. He grabbed you, pushing you back into the car and shielding you from the debris. The SUV came to a screeching stop, smoke came from the hood before a large explosion engulfed the car in flame. You were in shock when Barnes pulled away from you before it turned into anger.

“What the hell was that?” You shrieked, hitting him in the chest, “Do you know how much trouble we’re in now?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes were cold and his posture robotic.

“Oh shit,” you whispered as his eyes flickered from the explosion to you, “Barnes?”

In less than an instant, his hand was around your throat and pushing you back against the car. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his.

“Bucky, wake up!” You whispered hoarsely, “C’mon James, this ain’t you!”

He began to squeeze for only a second before he stopped, his eyes softening. He pulled away from you, quickly releasing you from his hold, “(F/N)?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” you groaned, relieved. You gently rubbed your neck as Bucky took in his surroundings.

“Where the hell…what the hell—,” he saw the explosion behind him before turning back to you, “Did I do that?”

“Oh that—pfft—no, that was…me,” you shrugged, watching his eyes carefully and glancing behind you, “Totally my fault. Let’s go.”

“(F/N),” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Look, I’ll tell you on the way, but now we gotta go. That thing is a homing beacon for trouble,” you gestured at the black smoke that was curling from the vehicle before grabbing his hand, “C’mon, we gotta go.”

He looked at you for a moment longer before relenting and getting back into the car. You sped off, heading for the west running highway.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, after a couple minutes silence and you were on the interstate.

“For what?”

“You saved my life, I don’t know what would have happened if you wouldn’t have been there.”

“What did they want?” Barnes asked, “And tell me the truth this time, no more lies, no more secrets.”

Your jaw clenched, you debated whether or not to _really_ tell the truth.

Of course, you wouldn’t. You’d signed a contract, whether you liked it or not, you were bound to it for the rest of your life. But you knew that the best way to lie was to throw bits and pieces of the truth in.

“What I told Steve the other night was mostly true,” you started, keeping your eyes on the road and trying to get your story straight, “I worked in a top secret base outside of Kabul, but I was more involved than I said. I was part of the security team there, they weren’t building vehicles, they were building a software that would turn the tide of war for the next century. They called it Aerocell, it could monitor movements and identify threats before they even existed. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it must have been a precursor to the program used in Project Insight.”

“You knew about Insight before you worked at SHIELD?” He asked, his brows furrowing as he laid back in his seat.

“I didn’t know, I was just on security detail and I’d work on some of the vehicles around base here and there, I didn’t realize that I was working so close to something that high profile. Word got out about the Aerocell chips and the scientists decided to split them up, they were going to send them to different bases and labs all around the world, but it was too late.”

“What happened?”

“We were attacked one night after a routine caravan dropped off supplies, they came at us from all directions. My squad and I were pinned down in one of the labs when my Captain decided that the chips were too important to let anyone get their hands on, he destroyed all of them except one. I took it.”

“You what?”

“I took one,” you repeated, flipping on your headlights and watching as the sun began to slip over the horizon, “I thought that they were too important to destroy, so I hid one in the insole of my boot and we broke out of the lab. We blew up the base and fought our way out to one of the transports, but we didn’t make it far. We got pinned again behind the front gate, right before we could get to the transports. One of the guys I was with was able to get a radio to work and call for extraction. Some Black Hawk helicopters were deployed to come get us, but they were too late. My Captain decided to try and make a run for the transports, I—I stayed behind to provide long range cover, but it wasn’t enough. By the time the helos got there, there wasn’t anyone left to get out.”

You rubbed your temple where a headache began to throb, “My entire team was gone and I sat in the desert for three days before they found me. They flew me back to the States and before I knew it, the entire thing was behind me. They debriefed me, discharged me, and sent me home like there was nothing to it, but I still had the Aerocell prototype. I decided that I wasn’t going to give up the chip and hid it. Nick Fury hired me on four months after I got out of the hospital, I jumped at the chance to get my mind off of what happened, I never thought it would come back to haunt me like this. I didn't realize until after we stopped Hydra that Insight and Aerocell were the same, so when I came home I destroyed it, but somehow…” you trailed off, watching as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared.

“They knew,” he finished, “They always know.”

You scoffed, “I would never have thought I would be caught up in something like this.”

He smirked, you looked at him. There was a bruise forming on the side of his face, and dried blood cracked on his lips.

“There’s a motel up ahead we can stay for the night.”

This time he scoffed, “We look like shit, doll, no one’s gonna want to take us in.”

“You forget I can be fairly persuasive,” you smiled, pulling off the highway and navigating your way down darkened streets.

You chuckled under your breath when you parked in front of the motel.

“What?” Bucky asked as you unbuckled and began getting out of the car.

“You called me ‘doll’,” you grinned, grabbing your phone and walking towards the front desk, “Careful Soldier Boy, you’re going soft on me.”

——————————

“Sir, there’s a problem,” an agent said, pulling up footage from CCTV cameras.

“What is this?” Novak’s accented voice echoed from the darkness.

“She got away, sir, but there’s something else.”

“What?” Novak groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“She has the Winter Soldier with her.”

The gray-haired man choked, if the agent hadn't known better he would’ve thought Novak was dying.

Novak scanned through the video footage, seeing with his own eyes, the Winter Soldier in the passenger seat of the car. He glared at the screen…then he laughed.

His laugh echoed in the dark room, a cross between the sound of a hyena’s laugh and a bird’s squawk.

“She’s smart,” he commented, straightening his tie, “She knows we can’t touch her if she has him with her.”

“Sir?”

“She’s taken him in, saved his life even, and now he thinks he owes her. Anyone that thinks to even touch her will answer to him,” he grinned, “She’s finally playing the game, but she’ll lose, just like she always does.”

The screen in front of them flickered before it went out.

“What happened?” The young agent spoke, rapidly typing on the keys to get the signal back.

“It seems she still has friends in high places,” Novak said, a shred of curiosity gleaming in his eyes, “It seems we haven’t fully gotten rid of Aftermath.”

——————————

You held up the key in victory as you trotted out of the motel, a cheeky smile plastered on your face.

Bucky shook his head as he got out of the car and headed towards you, “How’d you do it.”

“Said I’d lost a boxing tournament,” you shrugged, twirling the key on your finger and finding your room. You looked inside and grimaced, “It ain’t the Hilton, but it’ll do.”

You flicked on the light. It was a single bedroom, no couch, no table. The bathroom was disgusting and you were pretty sure you just saw something move under the bed. You turned to Barnes.

He shrugged, “Not the worst thing I’ve slept in.”

You chuckled, you were glad he had somewhat relaxed.

The both of you jumped when your phone began ringing.

“Son of a bitch, now you call me back,” you sighed when you looked at the contact, “Give me a minute.”

Bucky nodded as you left the room, watching you curiously as you left.

“Hey,” you said quietly as you answered the phone.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” You asked, walking away from the motel, well out of earshot of the room.

“Tracked your phone and what did we find? A smoldering vehicle with two bodies inside.”

“Sorry about that,” you groaned, “There was nothing I could’ve done.”

“You could have stayed out of this.”

“What fun would that be?”

“(L/N), this is serious, you’re retired and I can’t keep covering for your ass.”

“You owe me,” you growled, louder than you anticipated, you glanced behind you.

“I know,” he sighed, “I already took care of everything. Clean up crew just finished and we’ve erased the traffic camera footage, but there was someone else trying to look at the video, we blocked them out and deleted everything.”

“Novak,” you hissed, “Did you run a trace?”

“We did, but by the time we got there he had cleared out.”

“Keep an eye out for him, will you?”

“As always, where would I be without my right-hand gal?”

“Probably dead,” you answered, looking back toward your room.

A deep chuckle resonated from the other end of the line, “Probably, I owe you my life.”

“Yeah you do,” you agreed.

“Listen girlie…” his tone darkened.

You winced, you hated when he called you that.

“Yeah?”

“We need to talk about your...traveling companion.”

“Who?” You played dumb, looking back to the room and seeing the blinds gently swaying.

“You know who, we did a facial recognition scan, you’ve been harboring the Winter Soldier.”

“His name is Bucky,” you growled with a roll of your eyes, “It's fine, he’s harmless.”

“If by harmless you mean a crazy assassin, then I agree.”

“ _I said_ he’s fine,” you snarled, “He saved my life today.”

“But what about tomorrow? (F/N), you don’t know if he’ll turn on you.”

“Exactly, _if_ ,” you said, rubbing your temple, “You don’t know he will.”

“(F/N), this is a dangerous game—,”

“And it’s one that I’ve played before and I don’t intend to lose this time,” you muttered, beginning to head back to the room, “Listen, I gotta go, call me sometime. We’ll get together and go out for drinks.”

You heard him sigh under his breath, he knew that there was no way he could ever possibly stop you, “Absolutely, it’ll be just like old times,” he said begrudgingly.

“Without all the explosions,” you smirked, he let out a small laugh.

“Be careful out there, (L/N).”

“As always, Senator.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check & Continuity Rewrite


	18. My Way or the Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past the Motel, there was nothing for miles. He could disappear for good. He could walk out that door and go off grid. No one would ever find him.
> 
> But, if he left…what would happen to her?

> "Clever as the devil, and twice as pretty..."

——————————

The faces flashed before his eyes again, their voices whipped past his ears—some he recognized, most he didn’t. Flashes of light cast quick shadows on the wall, they were bright blue bursts of electricity; he could almost taste the static. The cold that was all over his body slowly subsided. He stood at attention, tall and menacing, as blurs of white lab coats buzzed around him.

“Kill her,” one whispered in his ear, spinning him around violently.

There she stood, a bright light cast harsh shadows on her face. Her hair was crusted with dirt and blood and she wore a tattered uniform. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken into her bruised skin, making her look more like a skeleton than a person. But her eyes…her eyes were alive with a ferocious fire, as though she was waiting for him to make the first move.

His eyes narrowed as he took looked at her, hidden beneath the mask he frowned.

“C’mon, Barnes,” she all but groaned, rocking back on her heels, “Let’s not do this again.”

He took a long, slow stride forward, watching her eyes carefully calculate his every move. In a quick lunge, he caught her neck in his hand and he shoved her roughly against the nearest wall; waiting for her to strike back…but she didn’t. His hand was primed to squeeze and finish her, but she didn’t fight back, it was as though this was just another day at the park. Her body relaxed, then her eyes. The fiery ferocity that had been barely contained softened and when they locked with his, her demeanor changed entirely.

“James,” she said, a soft smile gracing her lips as one of her hands fluttered over the hand that was attempting to strangle her, “This is a dream.”

“Shut up,” he growled, she grimaced slightly when he squeezed harder.

“I’m your friend,” she tried again, sliding her hand from his wrist to his shoulder, “Remember?”

At her touch, a burst of warmth shot through his system and the smell of breakfast and coffee on the kitchen counter wafted its way to his nose.

“You’re my mission,” he corrected with a shake of his head, swatting away her hand and trying to get rid of the sensation.

“No,” she sighed, resting her hand on his shoulder again, “I’m your friend and you need to wake up.”

The tenseness of his body was eased as her hand softly landed on his shoulder, he loosened his grip on her as she moved her hand towards his masked face. Before he could stop her, the mask clattered to the ground. A cacophony of whispers surrounded them suddenly.

“Bucky? Don’t you remember?” She asked, gently touching his face.

He felt warm sunlight filtering onto his skin as dust particles danced through the air with a sparkle, a pile of soft blankets were wrapped around him.

Shaking his head again, he pushed her away and her face darkened; the fire returned to her eyes in a flash.

“You’re free now,” she said, glancing at them, “They have no hold on you, you’re free.”

His brows furrowed as the noise around them began to grow.

“Go!” She ordered.

Chaos erupted in a shot as scientists began to swarm her.

“Wake up!” She screamed as they roughly yanked her away.

Her eyes burned into his mind as the men whisked her away and she faded into the darkness.

——————————

Bucky woke with a startled breath, his eyes snapping open and his body stiffening before he took in his surroundings. He was laying on a cheap motel mattress, the air conditioner in the corner rattled before it turned on. Light was just barely filtering through the swaying metal blinds.

Sighing, he rolled over, jumping when he saw a limp hand reaching toward him.

Curled in the tightest ball imaginable, and still passed out, was (F/N). Her face was buried in the covers, but one of her arms was outstretched toward him, as though she was trying to comfort him in her sleep. He watched her for a minute before carefully sliding off the bed, making sure not to wake her. He groaned internally as he lifted himself off the bed, his sore muscles screaming in protest as he did.

Making his way to the bathroom, he grimaced when he turned on the light. The room looked terrible, it was painted a nasty shade of yellow and was covered, nook and cranny, in dust and grime. It was small, barely able to contain his large figure, and almost everything was chipped or broken entirely.

He shook his head as he took in the scene, then he caught his reflection in the cracked mirror.

His temple was bruised a deep shade of blue and purple, and blood had pooled under his eye. Leaning against the wall, he sighed, feeling the sore muscles and bruises with every breath he took. He growled under his breath, cursing himself for being so careless and letting the STRIKE idiots get in a few cheap shots.

He should have seen it coming. He should have known that he, or (F/N) for that matter, couldn’t hide from the long reach of Hydra. He could run like hell, but he couldn’t hide.

The two men from STRIKE proved that Hydra could come after him whenever they wanted… _they could come after her._

He knew that (F/N) had been the main target, and the look on their faces told him they hadn’t known that he had been with her for weeks.

Now they did.

And it made (F/N) an even bigger target. There was no way they would pass up an opportunity to get their ‘asset’ back. He flinched at the thought. The first thing they would do is strap him to the machine and wipe him, then…who knows.

Backing out of the bathroom with a shake of his head, he glanced at (F/N), who was still curled in a ball—then the door captured his attention.

Past the Motel, there was nothing for miles. He could disappear for good. He could walk out that door and go off grid. No one would ever find him.

But, if he left…what would happen to her?

If he left, Hydra would probably chase him, but it would leave her vulnerable to attack. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall opposite the door with a sigh. She had already done so much for him, giving him food and shelter, and lying to her friends to protect him. He couldn’t just leave her now, could he?

The rustling of sheets startled him out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped to the bed, watching (F/N) uncurl herself, lying flat on her back. His heart dropped when he saw her face.

She was at least ten times worse off then he was. Her face was horribly bruised where it had made contact with the steering wheel and he noticed bruising on her wrists underneath her shirt.

Staring at her for a moment, his eyes wandered to the door again.

No.

He shook his head, he couldn’t just leave her. If Hydra did come back for her, there was no way she stood a chance—no matter what she said. Besides, he owed her.

Groaning lowly, he leaned back against the wall and slid down it slowly.

But…if he stayed…what would happen? He had no control of it yesterday…the Winter Soldier. It’s not like he had any control when he reverted. He couldn’t even remember what happened, how they had gotten to that part of town or when he had shot at the SUV.

He had been so close to killing her…

What if he hurt her? What if he couldn’t regain control fast enough to stop the Soldier in time?

What if he _killed_ her?

He flinched at the thought, glancing at her sleeping form as he rose from the floor, a knot tightening in his stomach

No.

——————————

The flashing pink and green lights of the club illuminated the occupants as they nimbly swung each other around the dance floor. You soon found yourself swaying along with them to the beat of the music booming through the speakers. The drink in your hand threatened to spill over as you slowly made your way through the crowd. Your head itched from the wig you were wearing and your eyes ached from the colored contacts that disguised them as they darted between faces with a purpose. You stopped, balancing easily in your six-inch heels and watching your target from across the room.

“Glitch, target acquired. Blond male. Approximately six foot. Black pants and light blue polo. Sitting in the back of the club. ,” you stated, taking a sip from your drink with a smirk, “Permission to engage.”

“Denied, Ghost, the SHIELD agents will follow him from here. Make your way to the next checkpoint.

“You’re no fun,” you growled into your drink with a frown and watching as the archer and ballerina began stalking _your_ target.

With a small hiss, you slunk into the shadows; careful not to draw their attention. You knew the Russian had eyes in the back of her head. Swallowing the rest of your drink, you waltzed out the door and into the rain.

Dark clouds covered the stars, but lights from the shops lining the streets brought warmth back to the gray cobblestone. Laughter filled almost every corner and conversation buzzed all around you. Walking quickly through the sea of people, you gracefully slipped into a darkened alley. You wound your way through a maze of pitch-black streets, the sounds of people gradually disappearing and replaced with silence save for the rain that drizzled on the roofs and dripped down to the ground. You braced yourself from a freezing breeze as it whistled through the alley, whipping up newspapers and leaves from the drenched ground.

“Ghost is at checkpoint,” you said quietly into your earpiece as you approached a dead end and slid silently into an abandoned house.

As you stepped through the door…

**everything changed.**

A scream pierced your ears, a huddled mass was crouched in the corner. You recognized it almost immediately.

“Barnes?” Your voice echoed in the room as you cautiously moved toward him.

A sob came in response.

“Bucky?” You asked, “It’s me remember?”

As you got closer, you realized he was clad in his Winter Soldier uniform. You slowly knelt to the ground, careful not to startle him

In a sudden movement, he whipped around and you found a knife precariously close to your throat. Glancing at his face, your stomach tightened. His eyes were cold and blank, but they were filled with an anger that burned into you with fury.

“James,” you said sternly, “They don’t have a hold on you anymore, you’re free now.”

You gently laid your hand on his shoulder.

Before he could respond…

**it changed again.**

Your heart was beating faster then you thought was possible as another deafening blast thundered through the collapsing bunker. A dark cloud of dust surrounded you as you darted out from behind your cover and sprinted down the hall, trying to stay ahead of the timed blasts and flames that licked dangerously at your heels.

You sidestepped tiles when they fell from the ceiling and shattered on the ground as the trembling building began to break down. Smoke was starting to fill the hallway from the fires below as you skid to a halt, trying to decide which way to go.

“Lieutenant!” Came a screech from behind you, “You can run, but you can’t hide!”

Novak appeared behind you, his gray suit was singed black and anger was evident on his face.

You smirked recklessly at him. His glasses were cracked down the middle and were dangling precariously from his ears while his usually greased back hair stuck up in every direction imaginable. Despite the circumstances, you laughed.

It echoed louder than the blasts, a hollow, maniacal sound that was almost scarier than Novak’s. His look of fury warped to distress as he took in the sight of you.

You were covered in soot and blood, the ripped uniform you were wearing showed off your bruised and scarred skin. Dirt and blood crusted your matted hair as you turned to face him. Your eyes and cheeks were sunken into your gaunt, smiling face. The flickering lights that surrounded you darkened your every feature with harsh shadows.

“You wanted to play a game of death and destruction, eh, Doc?” You howled over the sound of distant rumbling.

His jaw dropped slightly.

“Death,” you nodded to the corpse of a guard beside you.

His arms fell limp around him in defeat.

“Destruction,” you waved your arms wickedly around you.

His eyes widened as they took in the extent of your carefully planned chaos.

“Your move,” you grinned, diving through a doorway before it was blocked by falling debris.

——————————

Your eyes cracked open slowly, light was beginning to filter through the blinds and it made your headache. Moaning, you rolled from your back to your side and buried your face in the bedsheets, ignoring the tender bruises on your sides and face. Opening your eyes again, you jumped.

“Bucky?” You asked, quickly sitting up straight and glancing around the room frantically when you realized you were alone.

You panicked when there was no answer, and, ignoring the pain you were in, leaped off the bed. You sprinted to the bathroom, only to find nothing. And with your mind racing, you grabbed your keys and your phone from the nightstand and took off out the door.

When you got outside, your heart stopped for a second before you sighed in relief. Leaning against your car and looking towards the horizon was Bucky. His hands were crossed over his chest and he was rocking from heel to toe.

He was thinking about running.

“Don’t do it,” you said slowly, his head flicked toward you, carefully watching your every move, “I know you don’t trust me, Buck, but I don’t want you getting hurt out there on your own.”

His blue eyes burned into you before they softened and he scoffed, “That’s not what this is about.”

“What” You cocked your head to the side, stepping square in front of him, subtly cutting off his exit route.

“Look,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Hydra knows I’m with you now, that makes you an even bigger target if I leave…that threat goes down.”

“Barnes—,”

He held up a hand, stopping you in your tracks, “But, if I leave, they still might come for you and you won’t be able to hold them off.”

“Then don’t go,” you said simply, “You saw how well we worked together yesterday, Barnes, anybody who puts us in a corner together is screwed.”

“I know, but…” he trailed off, looking away from you to the brightening horizon again, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” You questioned, moving to lean against your car beside him, “I don’t understand.”

“I can’t control it,” he exhaled finally looking at you, “When I turn into…him…I can’t control myself. What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” you answered firmly with a shake of your head.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t,” you shrugged, “But if you try anything, I will kick your ass.”

Bucky scoffed, “You honestly think I’m scared of you?”

“You should be,” you stated, stepping away from the car before whispering, “I’ve fought aliens.”

“That is not a good reason,” he laughed.

You smiled at the sound, it wasn’t something you heard every day.

“It’s a damn good reason,” you rolled your eyes, playfully nudging him, “C’mon, we’re burnin’ daylight.”

His smile faded as you pulled out your keys, “(F/N), I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

“Look, Soldier Boy,” you said sternly, opening your car door and pulling out your phone, “If you don’t come with me, I’ll call Rogers and tell him exactly where you are.”

“Don’t you dare,” Barnes warned, reaching for you as you slammed the door and locked it from the inside, “(F/N) I swear to—don’t you dare—fine. Fine! I’m going!”

You smirked to yourself as he made his way around the car and slid into the passenger seat.

“I hate you,” he groaned as he sat down, leaning back into the seat with a sigh.

“No, you don’t,” you smiled, starting the car with a rumble, “You love me.”

“I tolerate you,” he corrected with a roll of his eyes, you laughed in response as you pulled away from the motel.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +Updates :  
> \+ 2/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	19. Flashback 2.5 : Sous le ciel de Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “SHIELD,” you blinked, “That’s like a sister organization to us right?”
> 
> “Correct, me and Fury just have different styles, that’s all. SHIELD’s more espionage-based, we’re more military.”
> 
> “So we can trust them.”
> 
> “Absolutely not!” Weston choked on his drink, “Listen, (F/N), if there’s one thing you need to remember about this mission, it’s _never_ , under no circumstances, _trust a spy_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Hello there...long time, no see...

> "Tout ça, c'est des conneries."

——————————

The plane roared over the white-capped ocean with thunderous engines. Lightning tore through ragged, black clouds in streaks of light, illuminating your face as you gazed out rain-spattered windows from the comfort of your cot.

The growl of the thunder followed close behind the strobes of light, barely audible over the engines as the plane rocked violently through turbulence. You leaned back into you bunk with a sigh, gently cracking your back against the rails. You jumped when the sliding door to Oliver’s bunk burst open and he tore past you, beelining towards the bathroom.

You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to turn that shade of green.

The plane rocked again, this time jarring you up off your cot and tossing you around like a rag doll. You snarled out loud, almost rivaling the rumble of the thunder and engines as if it would somehow scare away the storm and silent the droning turbines.

Normally, you didn’t mind flying in weather like this, you’d been on much more frightening, badly constructed roller coasters at county fairs. You could handle how the plane would hit dangerous pockets of air, dropping rapidly through the skies, it kept you on your feet.

But, tonight was different.

Tonight, as you soared across the Atlantic, you were researching and studying like a college student during finals week; like your life depended on it.

Probably because it did.

Scattered across your bed was a series of personnel files, mission reports, fuzzy security camera images, and other documents that told you little to nothing about your soon-to-be partners:

The Ballerina and the Archer.

The files you had received from headquarters were so heavily redacted with black ink that you hadn’t even found their real names, only monikers coined by the media from “unofficial sightings”.

The Slavic Shadow.

The Marksman.

You were undeterred however, you knew that at least one of these files had to have something of use…right?

Wrong.

Two hours later and you had gone through the stacks of papers five times and you still had nothing.

You growled again, louder this time, catching the attention of Turner from the bunk across from you.

“You okay, babycakes?” He asked, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading as you gathered up all the papers in a huff.

“I hate super-secret organizations,” you hissed, pulling the stack to your chest and rolling off your cot, “They always hide things so well.”

"Maybe that’s why they’re called super-secret,” he shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You didn’t hesitate to throw a spare pencil towards his head, he ducked with a small nod while turning the page of his book, his eyes never wavering; if he wouldn’t have moved you would have hit him right between the eyes.

“Shut up, Johnson,” you said with a scowl, marching past him before calling over your shoulder, “This is bullshit!”

You glanced at Danny’s bunk on your way to Weston’s quarters, the door was closed, but warm light filtered out from the gap at the bottom. Hesitating for a second, you wondered if you should finally apologize about Columbia, you still hadn’t spoken to him since then. You stopped in your tracks, looking at the door and debating before shaking your head. He was right about you not thinking things through all the way, but he also knew that this was your job and you knew what you were getting yourself into when you joined. He couldn’t coddle you...you didn’t want him to coddle you.

A huff left your nostrils as you turned away from his door and through the team's quarters and down into the cargo hold.

Adjusting the stack of papers in your arms, you wound your way to the Commander's quarters.

Weston preferred to keep an eye on everyone and everything, especially the pilots who weren't part of Aftermath but borrowed from the Air Force to chauffeur his teams to different bases. Because of this, he had his "War Room" placed as close to the cockpit as possible, leaving the cargo hold and workspaces in the belly of the plane and the team's quarters in the tail end.

The cargo hold was dimly lit, the only lights guiding you through the labyrinth was a lamp at Turner's desk and a hanging work light on the opened hood of a Land Rover you had half built; a project that wouldn't get finished until after you got back from Paris.

You tried your best to dance around the pieces of metal you had scattered across your area and cursed yourself when your toe came in contact with a rotor you had laying around.

Hissing in anguish at the pain running through your little toe, you shook out your entire foot and continued your journey.

Finally getting past the cargo hold, you slid open the door to the War Room. A blue glow was illuminating the room, coming from one of the many monitors mounted on the walls. It was looping security video of an explosion that rocked a warehousing district in Japan, something that the boys would be looking into while you were on your mission.

Weston was leaning against a table, stressfully chewing on the end of a cigar, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. His eyes were glued, unblinkingly, to the screen before he finally noticed you. He nodded his head in greeting before his eyes flicked back to the screen and he tilted his head towards a chair at the other end of the table.

You complied with the silent order quickly, but you never took your eyes off the screen.

The Japanese street was unassuming, a highway almost for the different manufacturers in the district, it connected all the warehouses in one straight line. People were scarce, a few workers straggled behind after hours, but other than that, the street was empty.

When the blast finally rocked the street, dust and smoke flew out of the building and then it crumbled before a flame could even be seen.

"It almost looks like a professional demolition," you commented, as the footage replayed, "You sure it wasn't scheduled to be put down?"

"I'm sure," Weston sighed, rubbing his temples then clicking the video off, "But that's the problem, an amateur didn't do this. We're dealing with a pro."

"You're worried?" You asked, brows furrowing gently as he glared at the video screens and he began viciously chewing on his cigar again.

He stayed silent for a moment before he nodded his head, "I am. Whoever did this is good, if not the best...they're a ghost—no offense." He added, catching a glare from you.

"Some taken," you said, holding back a snarl. You hated when there were other people good enough to be called by the name you had worked so hard for.

"Nobody goes to the entrance, nobody goes to the exit...it just...goes," Weston mumbled under his breath, ignoring you completely. He shook his head with a confused grunt then threw his chewed cigar into the trash and took a seat across from you, "I assume Japan isn't what you wanted to talk about."

"No, sir," you said, laying down your papers on the table.

"Paris," he hummed, sliding his chair to a cabinet and pulling out his box of cigars, a pair of rocks glasses, and a half-drank bottle of whiskey.

"Paris," you nodded, eyeing him as he cut off the end of a cigar and lit it, smoke filling the room on his first toke.

Weston leaned back in his chair, gently puffing his cigar and unscrewing the bottle of whiskey, "You'll be working side by side with two SHIELD agents along with one of our own."

"One of our own?" You interrupted with a raised eyebrow as he poured three fingers of whiskey into the glasses, "I thought I was going solo."

"You're going in alone, but I ain’t gonna send you in blind, you'll have tech support in your ear the entire time," he said, easily sliding one of the glasses to you, "Name's Boone Cavanaugh, codename Glitch. She graduated at the top of her class at MIT before she started hacking for the NSA. After a couple of months, she got bored, said she wanted to spend more time in the field, so she got transferred to the FBI. Did a lot of field and tech work for them, then she got bored again and transferred to the 'big leagues’—"

"The CIA," you interrupted again, he smiled while taking a sip of his drink.

"She was a damn good agent for them until she got in trouble with the Russians," he smirked at the look of confusion that crossed your face as you took a sip of your drink, "She hacked into the Kremlin during her lunch break, from her phone—she added smiley faces and poop emojis to each of their documents labeled top secret. She only got caught because she got distracted by a family of ducks that were crossing the road," Weston laughed into his drink, "That's how she got onto ours, and the Russian's, radar. Luckily, I have a few connections and got it sorted out. In return, she joined us. Doesn't get a lot of work in the field, but we try to keep her on her toes."

"Hold on a second...back up," you waved your hands in front of you, trying to hold on to every detail, "You've got connections with the Russians? Does that mean you have info on this ballerina chick? The Slavic Shadow?"

"The Black Widow," he corrected matter of factly, smoke tendrils trailing out of his nostrils as he straightened in his chair, "Natalia Romanova, goes by Natasha Romanoff now. She's a defected Russian assassin, works with SHIELD now.

“SHIELD,” you blinked, “That’s like a sister organization to us right?”

“Correct, me and Fury just have different styles, that’s all. SHIELD’s more espionage-based, we’re more military.”

“So we can trust them.”

“Absolutely not!” Weston choked on his drink, “Listen, (F/N), if there’s one thing you need to remember about this mission, it’s _never_ , under no circumstances, _trust a spy_.”

You nodded timidly at his serious tone and stone-eyed glare.

“They can turn on you like that!” He exclaimed, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

“Yes, sir,” you responded before you quickly changed the subject, “What about the Archer, sir? I couldn’t find anything on him either.”

“Clint Barton,” he relaxed, sinking back into his seat, “Also known as Hawkeye, can hit a flea off a dog at a hundred yards with his bow.”

“Impressive,” you shrugged.

“Don’t take him lightly, Lieutenant,” Weston warned, “If he’s great with a bow—,”

“He’s good with a firearm, I understand, sir.”

“Good,” Weston sighed, taking one last sip from his drink, “Now, time for the nitty-gritty details.”

“Sir?”

“Why you’re going to Paris,” he all but rolled his eyes, “The purpose of the mission.”

You scoffed at yourself, you had been worrying so much about the players in the game, you had forgotten all about the game itself.

Weston smirked at you before his face hardened, turning serious in less than a second, “Girlie, this one is important, there can’t be any screw-ups, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, sliding to the edge of your seat.

“A group of rogue scientists has developed a bioweapon. One capable of wiping out a city the size of New York, they just finished testing their last prototypes and are getting ready to sell the finished product at an underground auction. If this gets into the wrong hands, a lot of people are gonna die, we can’t let that happen. SHIELD has been keeping an eye on the situation for some time now, they’ve just been waiting for the right time to nab this shit from the creators, this is their chance. They’ve found the identity of one of the bidders, you’ll be helping their agents track him down, steal his identity, and then infiltrate the auction where you’ll take back the weapon so that it can be neutralized.”

You nodded slightly with every word that he said, wondering if you should have started taking notes.

“Now, remember how I said SHIELD can’t be trusted? I have a feeling Fury’s up to something, so you’ll be going in undercover, masking your face from the agents as much as possible, I don’t want you compromised. It could put our team—this whole operation even—in jeopardy. Ms. Cavanaugh will be assisting you as much as possible, she’s been instructed to give you more details and keep you off the grid for the entirety of this mission. You’ll also be meeting with a rep from SHIELD to go over things as well, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Weston smiled, flicking the butt of his cigar into the trash bin, “Now suit up, this plane ain’t stopping.”

“What?”

“This plane ain’t landing in Paris.”

“You’re saying I have to jump?”

Weston grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “Gather your gear, jump zone coming up in 20 minutes.”

——————————

“This is bullshit!” You yelled into the whistling wind as you plummeted towards the French countryside.

When you pulled the cord you were jostled around for a second and left temporarily breathless before you got your bearings and began scanning the ground for your landing site.

The pale moon was barely full enough to illuminate your target, a small, bare field muddied by the continuous rain that had been pelting you your entire journey. Still, there was still enough silvery moonlight to illuminate a parked vehicle in the clearing you were aiming for.

The ground came quickly as you maneuvered yourself to the field and gently dropped to the ground. You easily loosed yourself from the tangle of cords and began folding the chute, careful not to leave any trace that you had been there. As you did, a pair of headlights blinked on from across the field, it made you flinch and you found yourself instinctively reaching for the two pistols you had strapped to your hips.

The vehicle silently crept towards you, if it weren’t for the lights it would go unnoticed against the countryside. It stopped about ten feet away from you, the engine gently humming to itself as the driver’s door opened. Finishing with the chute you glanced up to see a tall, lanky body leaning against the grill, silhouetted against the light.

“Lieutenant (L/N)?” A lightly accented voice called out confidently.

“That’s me,” you responded, throwing the folded chute over your shoulder, your other hand resting on one of your pistols as you stood up straight, “Ms. Cavanaugh, I assume.”

“That’s right,” the voice drawled, even through the darkness you could see a bright smile gleam, “You can call me Boone.”

As you started closer, Boone slipped back into the darkness, casting long shadows for a split second before disappearing towards the back of the vehicle. You heard the faint clicking of the trunk opening and a warm light came from within. You rounded the vehicle carefully, your fingers resting on the grip of your pistol. As you came around the car, you finally got a good glimpse of Boone.

She had long, almost silver, platinum blonde hair that cascaded down her back in loose ringlets. Freckles littered her face which was graced with a mischievous, crooked grin, reminding you of the Cheshire Cat from Wonderland.

"Lieutenant,” she nodded as you put the parachute in the trunk, “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard quite a bit.”

“Good things, I hope,” you said as she closed the compartment.

“Meh,” she shrugged, waving a hand dismissively, “Not really. They say you don’t follow orders very well and you challenge authority with every chance you get.”

You sighed, your reputation preceding you, “They’re not wrong.”

“Good,” Boone exclaimed as she turned away from you, throwing a strand of hair over her shoulder, “I was worried this mission would get boring.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” you couldn’t help but chuckle, “Let’s get outta here, I have a feeling we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“You have no idea,” she said, getting into the vehicle, “You’ve got a meeting with SHIELD in five hours, we gotta get you prepped.”

“Prepped how exactly?” You asked as Boone slammed the vehicle into gear and took off.

“Commander Weston told you he doesn’t trust Fury right?” She questioned, glancing towards you and you nodded, “He thinks Fury’s gonna try and pull a fast one on us and he wants your identity to be protected. I went through a couple tac suit designs from a couple different places and I’ve come up with one that’ll match your skill set and keep you hidden. We just gotta do some last minute adjustments and you’re good to go.”

“Weston said you’d be giving me more specs on the mission,” you added as she swerved off of the dirt road onto the pavement.

“Of course,” she grinned, “So, SHIELD tracked down one of the potential bidders, name’s Armand Russo. You and the two agents are gonna find him, take him out, and Agent Barton will be taking his place. He and Agent Romanoff are gonna infiltrate the auction while you cover them from a nearby rooftop, just in case things go to the shits. Then, y'all are gonna meet back up and take the weapon to a scientist that’ll neutralize it. Sounds easy enough, right?”

“Sure,” you said, unconvincingly, “What do you know about Romanoff and Barton?”

“Not much,” Boone admitted through gritted teeth, frustration evident on her face at the thought of the two, “But I know they’re dangerous. Romanoff’s the one you gotta look out for, she’s unpredictable."

You hissed lowly at her answer, the lack of information you had on them was beginning to worry you. Boone was right, they were unpredictable, and if the Commander thought something was fishy, something was most definitely fishy.

——————————

The sky was barely getting bright when Boone finally hit the streets of Paris. Rain still spilled down from the dark clouds as she sped through the city. She seemed to know them like the back of her hand, she would dart in and out of lanes and through barely used alleys with ease, if anyone had been tailing her, she’d have lost them a long time ago.

“SHIELD has eyes all over the city,” she said suddenly as if she had been reading your mind, “They’ve increased activity since you were called in, especially at the military bases.”

“So that’s why I had to jump? Because they’ve been watching for us?”

Boone hummed in response, “I jammed most of the country’s radar, SHIELD usually piggybacks off of them, so the plane could pass by undetected and you could jump without any trouble.”

“What does SHIELD want?” You asked in exasperation, “They’ve never caused this much trouble.”

“It’s not what _SHIELD_ wants, it’s what _Fury_ wants.”

“You think it’s personal? Between Fury and Weston?”

“It’s a competition between them,” she mumbled, her eyes scanning the road ahead, “It has been from the beginning. I’ve been looking into the history between SHIELD and Aftermath—,”

“You hacked into SHIELD’s database.”

“That’s another way to put it,” the blonde grinned, “Turns out SHIELD’s been keeping tabs on Aftermath, well, as best as they can, they’re basically grasping at straws. But from the files, it looks like Fury gave Weston the chance to combine SHIELD and Aftermath and Weston refused.”

“And now Fury’s pissed.”

“Ehhhh...I wouldn’t say pissed…I’d say _fury-ous_ ,” she cackled at herself for a minute before drying her eyes.

“Why would Weston say no to joining?” You asked, bringing her out of her laughing fit, “SHIELD and Aftermath could get a lot done…”

“Weston thinks SHIELD’s corrupt, he thinks there’s something deeper going on but he can’t put his finger on it.”

“So why is Fury asking for help then? He has enough personnel to take care of—.”

“To draw us out,” Boone interrupted shamelessly, “If I’ve learned anything from their database, it’s that they’re frustrated. They can’t catch wind of any of our operations. Fury wants to pit his best against our best in the hopes of finally beating Commander Weston.”

“You’re saying Weston thinks I’m the best operative Aftermath has?” You scoffed at the notion, “Think again, Sunshine.”

Boone slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding the car in front of her and sending you flying forward into the dash. When you corrected yourself and turned to her, you found yourself eye to eye with glaring, pale green eyes.

“You **are** the best,” she growled, “Weston raves about you to anyone that’ll listen. He thinks you’re the best thing since Captain fucking America. You have the most kills in Aftermath history and if you keep it up, you’ll be the best sniper in the world. And you know the kicker? The world won’t even know it. Apparently, neither do you.”

Your face flushed with embarrassment, you had tried to hold Boone’s gaze as best you could, but in the end, you had to look away.

"Weston really talks about me like that?” You asked softly as Boone took off down the road again.

“Yup,” Boone replied, any hint of hostility in her tone had vanished, “That’s why Fury requested you—well, he requested Ghost, but same difference—they want to put their best chess pieces against each other. I don’t know what his endgame is, but it’s gonna be big.”

“And I’ll meet them head-on.”

Boone nodded, slowing the car down and pulling into a small courtyard.

"This is it," she said, glancing up at the two-story motel-like building as she got out of the car, "Weston's had me set up here for the past week."

You followed suit, looking around to make sure that nobody was watching you, carefully trying to hide all your tactical gear from wandering eyes. Boone, on the other hand, didn't seem worried as she bounced from the vehicle to the stairs. You glanced at her, finally getting to see her in full sunlight.

She was wearing a pale yellow sundress that went down to her knees and flowed with every long stride she took, her sandals lightly clicked along with her.

"C'mon," she called behind her, leaning over the railing from the second floor, "We ain't got all day."

When you finally got up the stairs, you found Boone half in and half out of a room, waiting for you to catch up. She tilted her head with a smile, a signal for you to follow, and then she disappeared into the room.

"Holy shit," you breathed when you entered.

The room was darkened, the glow from ten computer monitors was the only source of light. Most were streaming security camera footage from across the entire city, sometimes switching from different angles, while one monitor had code continuously running across the screen. The light softly illuminated other pieces of tech that were strewn across the two beds that were in the room. Earwigs, trackers, phones, drones, and pieces that you didn't recognize were all littered, not just on the beds, but all around the room.

"Sorry about the mess," Boone's voice came from around the corner, "I wasn't for sure what time they'd be _dropping_ you off."

"No problem," you said, moving towards where she was.

When you came around the corner, your jaw dropped.

Standing in the middle of the room, was a mannequin with a sci-fi looking suit on. Standard issue pants, boots, and coat, but it was the helmet that caught your eye.

It was a slimmed down version of a motorcycle helmet crossed with a classic tactical helmet. A black shade covered the eyes, masking them entirely. A removable faceplate was laying on a nearby table, but as soon as you put that on, you would be unrecognizable.

"Pretty sweet, right?" Boone asked, picking up the faceplate and a screwdriver, "It's custom made just for you, a little bulky, but it'll give off the illusion that you're bigger than you are. It's lined with a special mix of Kevlar, Spectra Shield, and carbon fiber that makes it lighter than regular bulletproof gear. The helmet is the pièce de résistance though. It has a built-in headset and camera in the main piece and a voice changer in the faceplate. The sun-shield will keep down glare when you're shooting and will allow me to send you visuals from my monitors."

"Holy shit," you repeated under your breath, reaching for the uniform and running your hands over the fabric.

"We just need to make a few minor adjustments and we're ready to go," she said, attaching the faceplate to the helmet, "Wanna try it on?"

"Hell yeah."

——————————

You rocked back and forth on your heels and swung your arms out in front of you a couple times, trying to get a feel for your new suit.

It fit like a charm.

The boots added a couple inches to your height and the padding on the suit made it look like you had a lot more muscle than you did.

Leather gloves squeaked when you clenched your fists as you looked yourself over in the mirror. You almost didn't recognize yourself, as soon as you had the helmet on, you would be an entirely different person.

"You think it's weird that SHIELD wants to meet in the middle of the day, or is it just me?" You called to Boone as you adjusted one of your boots.

"It's all part of their plan to screw with us," Boone called back, coming around the corner with the helmet in her arms, "They don't think you have the balls to come suited up."

"They're wrong," you said with a grin as she handed you the helmet and you slipped it on your head. All at once, the helmet activated, mirroring the code from one of Boone's computers, "Helmet activated."

"Beautiful," she hummed, sitting down at her desk and rapidly typing a code into her main computer, "Activating voice changer."

A light beep came from the helmet and Boone grinned, "Go on say something."

"I don't know what to—pffft,” you stopped, doubling over into a laughing fit as the deepest voice you'd ever heard came from your mouth, “Boone—no—that’s too—,”

"Too much?" Boone gasped, tears rolling down her face, "You sure? I think it's perfect."

"Boone!" You wheezed, "They're not gonna believe this!"

"Okay, okay," she sighed, taking a moment to compose herself before making a few more adjustments, "There."

"The name's Bond, James Bond," you said as suavely as you could, more natural voice coming out.

"That's more like it," she said with a nod, "One more thing and you're good to go."

"What do you got for me, Q?"

Boone grinned, kneeling down to reach under the bed and pulling out a gun case, "The Classic Barrett MRAD I know you adore," she announced as she opened the case, "With a few added touches, the scope is custom, better than anything you've ever seen."

She handed it to you gently, and you quickly stuck the stock into your shoulder, leaning your head to look through the scope.

"Perfect," you breathed, catching Boone glance at her watch.

"It's almost time to pack up," she said, waltzing over to her desk and pulling out a key, "There's a motorcycle down in the garage across the street, it'll get ya to where you need to go, I'll be giving you directions from here."

You nodded as she handed you the key and you strapped the rifle to your back.

"Oh, one more thing," she added as she looped an earpiece over her ear, "You'll be referring to me as Glitch throughout the entirety of this mission and, of course, you'll be Ghost."

"Of course," you said, disappearing out the door.

——————————

"They seriously wanted to meet here?" You whispered into your helmet, pistol drawn as you wandered down the damp hallway of an old, abandoned warehouse.

"It's SHIELD," Boone said into your ear, "They like to be dark and mysterious."

"This is bullshit," you scoffed, "Why couldn't we meet in a nice cafe somewhere?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

You didn't respond as you found your way down another hall, flinching as the lights suddenly came on and you heard a generator start up from somewhere in the building, "Glitch, someone's here."

"Stay on your toes," Boone said calmly, "They'll show themselves eventually."

You clicked off the safety of the pistol as you rounded the corner, weapon raised.

The hallway was long, no doors on either side except for there very end of the hall where one, ominous door sat.

"Straight ahead," Boone whispered, "I think."

"You think or you know?" You growled, your senses beginning to heighten.

Boone didn't answer as you carefully slid open the door.

The room you entered was big and dark. Old lights swung with a creak above you as you surveyed the room.

"Welcome to SHIELD," a voice came from a darkened corner.

"JeSUS CHRIST!" you jumped, whipping around with your pistol, fingers itching at the trigger.

A man stepped out of the shadows, clad in a suit and tie.

"Sorry, that corner was really dark and I couldn't help myself...I think there's a bulb out," the man chuckled as light hit his face and he extended his hand to you, "Agent Phil Coulson, I'll be your SHIELD liaison."

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +Updates :  
> \+ 2/24/2018 - Format Match, Grammar Check, & Continuity Rewrite


	20. Returning to Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road was old and winding, cracks littered the pavement and tore through faded paint. It was so abandoned that wild, white daisies with bright green leaves were growing through the cracks. 
> 
> Giant pine trees lined the road, they towered above him, swaying in the breeze with a rustling of needles. Tall grasses grew around their stumps, golden stalks glistening in the late afternoon sun.
> 
> A low gasp left Bucky’s mouth before he could stop it as he caught sight of the expanse of land that was laid out in front of him.
> 
> He couldn’t remember the last time he lost himself in that deep of a horizon, he caught himself smiling as he breathed in the smell of daisy and pine.

 

> “You are either on my side, by my side, or in my fucking way — choose wisely”

——————————

The black Pontiac zoomed through the screen at breakneck speed, the occupants inside concealed by the blur. It didn’t appear on the next camera.

“There ya go,” drawled woman, gesturing offhandedly at the screen, “She’s on the backroads now, ain’t nothing to worry about.”

The man beside her scoffed with a shake of his head, which earned him a death glare from her, “Keep an eye on these cameras, I don’t want any HYDRA scum following her home. Libra, I want you in that town ASAP, take your pilot and beat her there.”

“Yes, sir,” Libra replied from the other side of the room, beginning to move for the door.

“Woah, woah, woah,” the woman exclaimed suddenly, spinning around in her chair to face the two men, her green eyes narrowing “You’re gonna send him to spy on her?”

“Not her, him,” Libra said, matter of factly while swaying from heel to toe, “On the Soldier.”

“Sir,” she sighed, running her hand through her hair and turning to her superior, “With all due respect, I don’t think that’s a good idea—.”

“Glitch,” the man beside her interrupted, putting his hand on her shoulder, “The guy is an assassin, and according to his file, he’s extremely unstable. If he hurts (F/N)—.”

“(F/N) can take care of herself just fine,” Glitch growled as she swiped his hand away from her, “If she finds out, she’s not going to be happy.”

“It’s just a safety precaution,” he groaned when she frowned, “We can’t be too careful.”

“But—.”

“That’s enough,” he held up a hand and waved them both away before he rubbed his temples, “Both of you know your responsibilities, now go. I have a meeting that I’m late for.”

Yes, Senator,” she said, shooting a glare towards Libra before moving toward the back exit.

“Ms. Emmerly, send him in please,” the Senator said into his comm system, clearing his screen of the highway cameras and watching as the back exit closed before turning to the opening front door to his office, “Ah, Senator Ross, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

———————

Bucky woke slowly from a near perfect sleep, he wasn’t for sure where on their journey he had dozed off, but he did know that it was the best sleep he could ever remember having. He supposed it was the feeling of safety, freedom even, that had suddenly overwhelmed and relaxed him enough to completely pass out for a few hours.

It took him a second to open his eyes, they fluttered for a second before he gave up with a groan and squeezed them shut. He really didn’t feel like waking up.

Sunlight was shining through the car windows, enveloping him in a blanket of warmth while a cool breeze blew in from (F/N)’s open window. It flowed almost like water over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He released a sigh of contentment into the silence, the breeze rustling through the trees and the soft singing of birds the only other sound—he sat up quickly, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the car.

Silence?

He looked around, realizing that the Firebird was no longer moving and that (F/N) was nowhere to be seen. Bucky jumped out of the car, muscles tensed and mentally preparing himself for the worst. But instead of coming face-to-face with a worst case scenario, he found himself in a deserted, but heavily forested, stretch of road.

The road was old and winding, cracks littered the pavement and tore through faded paint. It was so abandoned that wild, white daisies with bright green leaves were growing through the cracks.

Giant pine trees lined the road, they towered above him, swaying in the breeze with a rustling of needles. Tall grasses grew around their stumps, golden stalks glistening in the late afternoon sun.

A low gasp left Bucky’s mouth before he could stop it as he caught sight of the expanse of land that was laid out in front of him.

The Firebird was parked, almost strategically, next to an opening of trees that framed an open sky and a sprawling mountain range. The mountains were still capped with white, even though it was well into spring, and they were peppered with green clumps of pine and aspen. He approached the edge of the road carefully, stopping when he hit the guardrail, to get a better look and the cotton candy clouds that floated easily through the air almost touching the peaks of the mountains.

He couldn’t remember the last time he lost himself in that deep of a horizon, he caught himself smiling as he breathed in the smell of daisy and pine.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” (F/N)’s voice came from behind him.

“Yes,” he breathed softly, taking in one more look at the horizon before he turned around.

(F/N) was leaning against the grill of the Firebird, holding open its hood as steam billowed out from the engine compartment, “Sorry I didn’t wake you, I didn’t think it would take this long.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said, glancing over his shoulder once more as he walked towards her, hearing her chuckle as he did, he supposed it was from the awestruck look that was written all over his face.

Bucky rolled his eyes, before smirking as (F/N) began fanning away the steam with a growl. Her brows knit together even tighter as she tested the heat of one of the caps with the back of her hand.

He scoffed quietly shaking his head and catching a glimpse of the valley again, “(F/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we?”

(F/N) stopped mid-motion of reaching for the cap, she straightened herself and moved to lean against the side of the car next to him, she looked to the valley for a long moment before answering, “Home.”

“Home?” Bucky asked as she pushed off the side of the Firebird and slowly walked towards the edge of the road.

(F/N) smiled, “Sergeant Barnes, I want to personally welcome you to my home, New Eden.”

——————————

“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” she called after Libra, her heels clicking furiously down the hall after him as she smoothed her pencil skirt, “You know her better than I do. You know she doesn’t need us spying on her.”

“I’m quite aware of that, Ms. Cavanaugh,” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to stop until he entered the elevator, “But he’s dangerous and I’ve got my orders, you’ve got yours; I think it’d be best if you followed them.”

The doors to the elevator slid shut before she got there, a low, aggressive hum left her throat as she tapped her toe impatiently. She angrily hit the button of the elevator, to no avail, before she leaned against the wall with a sigh as she calmed herself for only a second before a crooked smile curled upon her face and she flicked out her phone.

“Heyyyyy, Jesse,” Boone drawled dangerously as the elevator returned to her floor and she stepped in, “How’d you like to test out your new cloaking device, off record?”

——————————

You stopped next to the guardrail, a small smile gracing your face as you looked into the open valley below you, “You see where it becomes grassland, right there?” You asked as Bucky appeared beside you, “That’s New Eden, hidden in the trees.”

Bucky didn’t answer as you took in more of the valley and childhood memories began flooding back to you, “You’re gonna love it, Buck,” you said, backing away from the guardrail, “Wide open spaces, not many people…” you trailed off when you caught sight of his face, he had gone paler than he already was and looked as though he was going to be sick, “Buck, you okay?”

He took a shaky breath, “I didn’t realize we were this close,” he whispered, his eyes flicking back around the valley, any trace of wonder was gone and was replaced by that cold, calculating look that reminded you, much too much, of the Soldier.

“Bucky,” you sighed, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Nothing bad is gonna happen to you, I promise.”

“You don’t think they’ll find it suspicious? You don’t think they’ll find _me_ suspicious?” He snapped, shrugging away your hand, “My face has been plastered all over the country they’ll never believe—.”

“They’ll believe whatever I tell them,” you said, expertly hiding a flinch at his outburst. Again he didn’t answer, instead, his arms folded securely across his chest as he continued to glare down into the valley.

You wanted to say something more, to tell him that it was going to okay, but decided against it. Instead, you backed away from the edge and headed towards the car, letting him cool off by himself for a minute. Turning your attention back to your overheated car.

The steam had just settled when you returned and you easily popped off the radiator cap. You grabbed the coolant that you had set on the ground and poured all it’s contents in with a sigh. You really shouldn’t have pushed it that hard, but as soon as Bucky had fallen asleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It made you uneasy and you found yourself checking behind you every couple miles, even after you had made it to the backroads where nobody but a local would dare to go.

The mountain roads were treacherous. They twisted and turned in dangerous hairpins, creating blind corners that could easily be missed. You knew of and had saved, many outsiders that had taken too wide of turns and had ended up on the side of the mountain in heaps of trouble.

You knew that no-one could keep up with your pace through the mountain without ending up either lost or dead, but still, unease ate at the back of your mind.

You gently closed the hood of the Pontiac with a sigh. Bucky turned slowly at the sound, eyeing you carefully as you leaned against the hood and returned his stare.

“I’ve gotten you this far, Barnes,” you mumbled, “Do you really think I’ll let anything bad happen now?”

His jaw clenched for a moment as he started towards you, “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he said before glancing over the shoulder, “It’s them.”

“You haven’t even met them yet, give them a chance.”

“(F/N)—,” he stopped, running a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to figure out what words to say.

“What?” You asked, brows furrowing at the look on his face as he came to stand in front of you.

“I—,” he paused again, dropping his head for a moment before he shook it a looked you in the eyes. They were filled with a hardened resolve that appeared out of seemingly nowhere, “You swear, they’ll never know.”

“I swear on my Grandmother’s grave, they won’t ever know who you really are,” you said, a puzzled look crossing over your face at his change in demeanor.

“Let’s go,” he growled, leaving your side and getting into the car.

“What the hell?” You whispered grouchily to yourself, watching him carefully and wondering what had caused him to change so suddenly. Picking up the empty jug of coolant that was laying next to your feet, you followed him into the car, tossing the jug carelessly into the back seat.

As you turned over the engine, you eyed him cautiously, trying to pick up on the subtle cues that the Soldier was present instead of Bucky, but they weren’t there. Whatever had caused his sudden mood swing you weren’t sure.

You shook your head, clearing your mind and instead focusing on the roads ahead as you shifted the car to drive and shot down the mountain.

Bucky stayed silent in the passenger seat, surveying the road ahead of him with a calculating glare. You knew that he was coming up with worst case scenarios and what he would have to do in order to escape if things went south.

“It’s about 30 minutes to New Eden,” you said as you swerved around a corner, “Would you like me to give you the specs?”

“The specs?” He questioned, his eyes not leaving the road, “I don’t understand.”

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re making emergency maneuvers in your head right now, I can tell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You scoffed, watching him in of the corner of your eye, “New Eden is a small town, 1500 people, tops. Everybody knows everybody, word travels quick. I guarantee that by tomorrow morning everyone will know that I’m back in town and I’ve got company.”

He stiffened at that a bit, eyes narrowing and muscles tensing.

“Don’t worry Soldier Boy,” you sighed, “They just get excited when there’s a new face in town, but they can’t do much about it this time of year. The farmers are just starting the planting season, they’re gonna be in fields and the ranchers are moving their cattle up to the mountain pastures to graze, so you’ve got—give or take—four weeks to get settled before people start getting super nosey.”

You slowed down to go over a cattle guard, noting the cows that were now surrounding you on both sides of the road and carefully working your way past them. You also noted the look that crossed Bucky’s face when he caught sight of one of the cows, it that of a small, confused puppy and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“New Eden is down in the valley grasslands, there are only two roads out. The one we’re on now, and the one on the west side of town,” you continued, “The shop is north of New Eden, about 10 miles out of town so we’re going to be pretty secluded. The only people that come out to the shop are the farmers and ranchers that have broken some of their equipment, but they’re not going to have enough time to bring in their rust-buckets until everything slows down.”

Bucky nodded along slowly, the cold look that had been frozen on his face for the past couple miles began to melt away as the trees of the mountain became tall grasses that swayed in the spring breeze. His eyes softened slightly as he noticed the old wooden fences that speckled the countryside along with the cows that were grazing alongside the road.

You smirked at him as you slowed to a stop and he caught sight of a couple of men on horseback ahead of you, they were slowly moving cattle up the mountain.

“Howdy, Ms. (L/N),” one called as he passed, tipping his hat.

“Nice to see ya again, Ms. (L/N),” the other called as he trotted away.

“You too, gents,” you called out the window before slowly taking off again.

“Jesus Christ!” Bucky exclaimed suddenly, his eyes widening as he looked after them, “Those were—,”

“Cowboys,” you finished, “The Roper twins, actually, they have a cattle ranch and make the best moonshine this side of Louisiana.”

“Holy shit,” he sat back in his chair.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized exactly what he was getting into, you nudged him gently and pointed to the side of the road.

A sign painted with faded, cracked paint on old wood sat there with grass winding around its posts. ‘Welcome to New Eden’ was written in pastel yellow against a baby blue background and underlined in faded red ribbon.

“Welcome to New Eden,” you repeated quietly as you turned the final corner and onto Main Street.

——————————

As soon as you turned the corner, two things happened.

1\. The dozens of people that were taking a late afternoon snack break recognized you and began waving and yelling at you from the tables that they were sat at. People that were in their cars began honking their horns and waving wildly.  
  
2\. Bucky stiffened like a board, his eyes widening even more than they already were. He tensed up worse than you had ever seen him as people began to approach the car.

“Hey,” you said softly, your hand instantly leaving the steering wheel and coming to rest on his, “It’s going to be okay, I promised, remember?”

He nodded slowly but didn’t relax at all.

As people began to approach the car, you pulled over to the side of the road.

“(F/N),” Bucky hissed as he tried to sink back into his seat.

“I’ll take care of it,” you hissed back, squinting as a glint from his arm hit one of your eyes, “Buck, your hand.”

He glanced down at it before he crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his metal one out of sight.

“Look what we got here, everybody,” one of the many people walking towards you hollered, making Bucky flinch. He leaned against the side of the car with a grin, “Ms. (F/N), how the hell are ya?”

“Pretty damn good,” you grinned as he held out his hand and you took it, “How the hell are you, old man?”

Before he could answer, the ‘whooping’ of a siren came from behind him, causing Bucky to almost dive out of the window until you stopped him by hooking your arm through his and pulling him towards you.

“(F/N),” he warned, his eyes flicking back and forth in a panic.

“Take it easy,” you hissed as you took a look into your rearview mirror and the Sheriff’s truck rolled slowly past, he tipped his white cowboy hat in greeting as he went by.

“Come on you guys, give her some space,” a gruff, familiar voice called from beside Bucky’s window, “She ain’t the circus, go on.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, Duke, your best friend in high school and the only person you knew you could trust in New Eden

“Hey, beautiful,” he cooed as he leaned down against Bucky’s window, jumping a little once he realized that you weren’t alone in the car, “My apologies sir, I was talking to (F/N),” the auburn-haired man grinned at Bucky.

“Name’s Duke Dugan,” he continued, holding a hand out which Bucky just stared at. Duke’s smile faltered for a blink, “You are?”

“Duke, this is my friend B—,” you paused as you caught a pleading look from Bucky, “Sebastian.”

“Sebastian, eh?” Duke asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked skeptically into Bucky’s eyes, “Sebastian what?”

“Stan,” you blurted before Bucky could respond, “Sebastian Stan, Army Rangers. Just got back from overseas, he’s gonna be helping around the shop until he gets back on his feet.”

Duke’s grin returned, “Rangers, huh? Me too, course, I’m retired now.”

Am uncomfortable smile came across Bucky’s face, before he reached out his good hand to Duke, carefully tucking away his metal one, “Nice to meet you, soldier.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as Bucky slipped into the role you had just provided him and he started a conversation with Duke.

“You’re a long-range specialist, eh?” Duke asked, answered with a nod from Bucky, “I prefer explosives myself.”

“Don’t get him started on explosives,” you groaned, “He’ll never shut up.”

Duke rolled his eyes with a snort before he turned serious, “What brings you back to this neck of the woods.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said, “Weren’t you working in New York?”

“Yeah, just decided to come home for a couple weeks, you know, enjoy the fresh air.”

You hummed in agreement, “Well, we better be going, I want to unload the trailer tonight.”

“Need any help?” Duke jumped, “It would be no problem.”

“No,” you said, almost as quickly, “Sebastian is gonna help me, right Seb?”

Bucky nodded, with a small grin as you shifted into drive.

“Nice to see you again, (F/N).”

“I’ll see ya around Duke,” you called as he stepped away from the car and you pulled away. You waved to the groups of people that were still watching you drive down Main Street before you turned onto another road and revved the car up to speed.

“Jesus Christ,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “That was almost bad.”

“Almost?” Bucky exclaimed, “Half the town has seen me!”

“And they didn’t say anything,” you interrupted, “To them, you’re Sebastian Stan.”

“What kind of name is that?” He asked with a groan as he sank back into his seat, “I don’t even look like a Sebastian.”

——————————

The ten miles to the shop flew by, and before you knew it, you were approaching the tall chainlink fence and gate that encased the property.

The property had four different buildings, the house, garage, barn, and storage shed, outside the fence was a row of rusted grain bins.

The house was a two-story farmhouse that stood on the original foundations. The faded wood siding was covered in chipping red paint, terra-cotta shingles were missing on the roof and one of the brick chimneys had collapsed over the years you had been gone. The old swing on the front porch swayed back and forth in the wind.

“Bloody hell,” you whispered as you grabbed the key to the padlocked gate from your pocket and you got out of the car.

Green ivy with small white flowers had begun to wrap its way up the side of the house and the trees and bushes lining the sides of the house had outgrown their barriers, becoming unruly and growing into the yard.

The garage was right next to the house, on top of gravel which weeds had taken over. Its white bay door had multiple broken windows but was otherwise untouched.

You clicked open the padlock and slowly unwound the chains from the gate before you pushed it open with a long, metallic creak.

The barn and the storage shed were probably the worse off. Both were leaning on their foundations and their red paint had all but disappeared. The doors of the barn were off its castor wheels and hanging crooked on the floor while the storage shed’s door had fallen completely off its hinges and was lying in the dirt.

You shook your head with a roll of your eyes, you had underestimated the toll the elements would take on your home. Slipping back into the car you carefully moved forward through the shop yard and to the house towards the back of the property. The scratching of weeds on the undercarriage of your car made you grit your teeth.

“I didn’t think it would be this bad,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. Bucky glanced at you, his calculating eyes turning on your face. You shook yourself together, before nodding to him, “C’mon.”

Stepping out of the car with your eyes locked on the farmhouse as you took another key out of your pocket, “It’ll be a project,” you said, breaking the sound of crinkling leaves under your feet.

“It looks like shit,” Bucky responded without hesitation, you failed to notice the small smirk on his face.

“Fuck you,” you growled with a glare. The smirk on his face grew as he nudged you playfully and you realized that he had been joking with you. You couldn’t help but scoff a smile as he took in the property and you carefully stepped up the creaky stairs to the front door.

Inserting the key, you unlocked it easily and then you paused, praying that inside wasn’t as bad as the outside. Turning the handle you pushed—nope. You pushed again—nope. The door didn’t budge.You let out a frustrated groan and let your head tip forward until it hit the door with a resounding thump, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Let me try,” Bucky offered from behind you.

“Be my guest,” you waved him off.

His human hand wrapped around the handle and he gave it a strong push—nothing.

“Don’t you dare break it,” you warned him as his metal hand wrapped around the handle.

He gave the door another strong push, putting his weight behind it—nothing.

“Buck—,” you warned him again.

“It moved a little bit,” he said as he turned his shoulder against the door, “It just needs a little more—.”

He wound up to put his shoulder against it and as he collided with the door, the entire thing came off its hinges. Bucky disappeared in a cloud of dust from the inside of the house.

A small gasp left your throat as you rushed into the house after him before it was replaced with uncontrollable laughter.

Bucky was lying atop of the door in a pile of dust, he rolled over onto his back and crossed his hand over his chest as he pursed his lips, “This isn’t funny.”

You didn’t answer as you continued your laughter before choking on the dust that was now floating through the air.

He rolled his eyes as you came closer and offered him a hand, he took it and returned to his feet.

You dried away tears and finally took a look around the room.

It was pristine.

With the exception of the dust that was now clouding everywhere, the furniture and decorations were untouched.

“Well, Bucky,” you said, as you nudged his shoulder, “Welcome home.”

——————————

It took virtually no time for you and Bucky to empty the trailer into the house and after a little tinkering, you had the door temporarily fixed. The sun had just disappeared over the horizon when you got the well and the water heater running.

“Check the water,” you called to Bucky from the control box on the side of the house.

“Good,” he called back as you shut the control box and headed inside.

“It’ll take a couple hours for it to warm up,” you said as you checked the taps in the bathroom as well as the kitchen, “In the meantime, I’ll show you to your room and then I gotta take a look at the car.”

You hadn’t even looked at the second floor as you headed up the stairs, you were hoping that it looked as good as the first floor. You breathed a sigh of relief as you got to the top of the stairs, it looked just fine.

The upper floor was small, but it housed three different bedrooms and a single bathroom.

“Take your pick,” you said as Bucky brushed past you, “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

He nodded in response and you descended the stairs. Careful not to break the hinges, you opened the front door and headed towards the shop. You’d parked the car along the bay door so you wouldn’t have to move it later.

Popping the hood of the Firebird, you unlocked the shop and opened the bay door manually before clicking on the single light in the building. It was dim and flickering, not giving you much to work with, but it was the same light that your uncle had worked under for so many years.

You looked into the shop, it was just like you’d left it. Tools were scattered across workbenches and old bottle of oil lined the shelves, you took a screwdriver off the table and rolled it in your hands. Taking a deep breath, you relaxed. For the first time in years, you felt safe…

Until you felt a presence behind you.

Pushing aside your better judgment and relying completely on old habits along with muscle memory, you whipped around wildly, using the screwdriver as you would a K-Bar.

“Take it easy, pretty thang,” a woman’s voice drawled, taking her index finger and pushing away the screwdriver from her neck, “Friend, not foe.”

“Boone?” You breathed, taking in the sight of the woman you hadn’t seen in years. The same eerie green eyes stared back at you, but brown, layered hair and finely plucked eyebrows framed her freckled face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to warn you,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder with French-tipped fingernails, “You-know-who sent a baby spy to keep an eye on you and your little friend,” she sang as she circled you.

“What friend?” You evaded, hoping to hell she didn’t know about Bucky.

She quirked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, “You know you can’t lie to me, (F/N),” she sighed, “Besides everybody at work knows.”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” you dropped the guise immediately.

“On purpose,” she said unconvinced as she leaned against one of the workbenches.

“Boone, he won’t hurt me,” you pressed with more confidence.

She sighed, dropping the stern persona she had adopted, “It ain’t him I’m worried about,” she said, glancing up to the house and shrinking back into the shadows for a moment before continuing, “It’s Aftermath.”

“What?”

“If the Soldier steps one foot out of line, they’re ready to pounce.”

It was your turn to furrow your brows, “Who’d he send?”

“Who do you think?” She asked as she checked over her nails, “Duke.”

“That little shit,” you moaned, “He said he was on vacation.”

“You’re getting rusty,” Boone commented, “You should know better.”

“I’m not used to my friends lying to me,” you snapped pointedly.

Boone’s jaw tightened and she pursed her lips, “You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Do I?” You sneered, your grip tightening on the screwdriver

“Don’t give me attitude, (F/N),” she warned with a low yowl, “And don’t you dare try to push me away when I’m trying to help you. I understood the first time, I didn’t complain when you pushed us all away. I understood, (F/N), after everything you’d been through _I understood_ , not them. I gave you space and time to heal. And what do you do? You run willy-nilly into situations that could get you killed.”

You shook your head in confusion.

“Don’t think we didn’t know about your little escapades with the Avengers and Captain America, honey, we’ve been watching,” she said before continuing, “Look, I know that it’s a part of you, the daredevil, thrill seeker or whatever the hell you want to call it,” she waved a dismissive hand, “But you’re getting involved with things way bigger than you understand and I couldn’t bear to see you get hurt again.”

“Boone, I—.”

“No,” she held up a finger, her eyes narrowing to slits before she took a breath and ran a hand through her hair, her entire body relaxing, “No,” she repeated to herself, “(F/N), you’re my friend, I’m on your side. I understand your pain, even though I don’t understand your healing process, but that’s beside the point. If you think taking in an unstable assassin is a good idea, then I’m behind you, but I can’t say the same for Duke, he’s much more protective. Oh, and don’t be surprised if you get a call from the Boss, I think he’s gonna be calling in a favor soon.”

Her green eyes met yours once more before she glanced at the house and began to slip out of the garage.

“Boone,” you called after her in a hushed tone, a shaky breath haunting your voice. She paused, looking back to you, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, pretty thang,” her Cheshire grin glittering, her eyes almost glowing in the silver light of the rising moon, “Call me if you need anything.”

She slipped back into the shadows as though she was made of darkness and disappeared into the night. You stayed quiet for a couple minutes, listening for her. You swore you heard the muffled sound of a jet fire up, but just like that, it was gone.

A headache instantly graced your mind as you tossed the screwdriver that was still in your hands over your shoulder and you headed inside.

You slumped down on the plastic covered couch in the living room, exhaustion suddenly overwhelming you as you realized that moving Bucky here wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought.

You were being watched, not only by Hydra but by Aftermath as well.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowsa! Glad ya made it, lemme know what you thought!
> 
> -Darke
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 2/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	21. The Notebook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So he’s just like you?” She asked, saying it more like a statement instead of a question as she weaved her fingers together in front of her, rings clinking together as she did, “Tell me, is he as good an actor?”
> 
> “If not better,” you breathed, leaning back into your chair tensely, “He’s damn good.”
> 
> Amma smirked, “You’ve finally met your match, hmm, sweet-tart?”
> 
> “I wouldn’t go that far,” you rolled your eyes as you took a sip from your mug, “I could still kick his ass to next Tuesday.”
> 
> “Damn straight,”

> “It’s always the small pieces that make the big pictures”

——————————

You sighed as the sun crested over the mountains that rimmed the valley. Its warm light sparkled across fields planted with winter wheat. Their short, green stalks glistened with morning dew. They swayed the cool breeze blowing off the white-capped peaks.

Returning home was the best decision you had made in…well…

It was the best decision you made in your life.

Everyone had welcomed you back with open arms. Things returned to the way it was before you had marched off to war.

You already had farmers lining up to drop off their equipment for you to fix. While ranchers were trying to get your help with bringing the cattle down from the mountains in the fall.

It was like you hadn’t even left.

Everything was the same as it always was.

Except for Bucky.

Everyone in town had gotten used to you bringing home stray soldiers, Daniel being the most notable.

Of course, they always treated them in like they were family. For this you were grateful, but there were two things that made you worried.

First off: Bucky.

As much help as he had been in rebuilding the house, he had begun to distance himself. And his nightmares had gotten much worse.

You found yourself staying up late at night and into the early hours of the morning checking on him as he slept. If you could call it that. It was restless, tossing and turning while half asleep and half awake. Every so often a whimper would sound through the walls of the house, you flinched every time.

As much as you were hoping this meant more memories were coming back to him. You knew that each one that returned was painful and it was beginning to show.

The dark circles under his eyes were darkening with every day that went by. He seemed gaunter than when he had shown up on your doorstep.

Then there was a look that would cross his eyes every so often, it was cold and dark and it scared you to death.

You wanted to trust him, you did. But you found yourself watching him closer than you ever had in case he reverted again.

Which led to the second thing that worried you:

Duke Dugan.

After Boone’s short visit and straightforward warning, you’d kept a much closer eye on Duke.

He would show up at the house unexpectedly. Hanging out for as long as he wanted, always trying to get Bucky to slip up on his cover.

Duke wasn’t usually like this.

He was usually well-mannered and light-hearted, but when he was on ‘the hunt’ he was a sadistic predator. He toyed with his prey, taunting them to no end before he pounced, then it was over.

Luckily, Bucky was much better at keeping a cover straight then you had anticipated. He was much more talkative when he was ‘Sebastian’ but you could tell it was taking its toll on him.

There were times that Bucky would stop responding to his own name. Instead, answering only to ‘Sebastian’, even if there was nobody else around.

Duke’s antics were also taking their toll on _you._

Not only did you have to protect Bucky’s cover, you also had to protect Duke’s.

You wanted to retaliate against him and the rest of Aftermath, make them pay for questioning you. But you couldn’t risk Bucky finding out that there was an operative for a government agency in town. It would ruin any trust you had started to form with him and then he could disappear.

There was an upside, though.

Duke and Aftermath were easy to deal with.

Blackmail was heaven-sent.

Your relationship with the Avengers left you with a secure advantage. By threatening to expose Aftermath to the Avengers, you had everyone in the palm of your hand. Leaving you to deal with the bigger problem, Bucky’s returning memory.

So, there you were, cruising to town at sunrise to find something or someone to help you.

You pulled off the road to a small gas station that sat right at the edge of town. Parking in front of the covered boardwalk in front of it.

The gas station looked like a small, rundown shack, clad in aged gray wood. The roof was made of handmade shingles that had bright green moss growing all over them, curled from the sun. The windows had bright neon signs for coffee and handmade trinkets flashing behind the smokey glass.

A sign hung atop the building, painted turquoise with ‘Amarilla's General Store’ burned black into the wood.

Amma, your uncle’s old flame and the closest thing you had to family left in town.

An exhausted huff left your throat as you entered the store, the bell on the door jingling as you did.

“You okay there, sweet-tart?” A woman’s aged voice came from across the store above the country music playing.

“I’ve been worse,” you called back with a brittle, tired tone, “I need some advice, Amma.”

“I’ll be right there, sweetie,” Amma sang before she appeared next to you in a flash, a pair of steaming coffee mugs in hand, one of which she handed to you before you could protest.

Amma had waist length, gray hair that was braided down her back. Her black, round-toed boots clunked heavily on the wooden floor as she ushered you to a table in the corner of the store. Turquoise and silver clad fingers tucked into her belt which was adorned with a large buckle studded with crystals and black tourmaline. Her chandelier earrings jingled as she tilted her head towards you with a bright smile, the hundreds of silver bangles that were clasped around her wrists clanked as she pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Whatcha got, honey?” She asked, leaning back in the chair.

“So,” you started slowly, pausing to gather your thoughts before beginning, “say I have this friend—.”

“Is this going to by hypothetical?” Amma cut in, flipping her long gray hair over her shoulder with a ringed hand, “You know how I feel about hypothetical questions, darlin’, just come right out and say it.”

She raised an eyebrow as you dropped your gaze to your coffee, your fingers playing nervously with the handle.

“So, I have this friend,” you tried again, earning an approving nod from Amma, “and he’s having some memory problems—.”

“Like you Granddaddy’s memory problems or _your_ memory problems?” Amma mused as she took a sip of her coffee.

You scowled at her question, neither topic was something you wanted to talk about.

Your grandpa’s deteriorating memory had been rough on your family and your faulty memory had put you in a rather dark spot.

“Mine,” you said lowly, staring intently into your drink, trying to avoid her gaze, “I don’t know what to do, he doesn’t want to talk to me about anything and I don’t know if he’s improving or not.”

“So he’s just like you?” She asked, saying it more like a statement instead of a question as she weaved her fingers together in front of her, rings clinking together as she did, “Tell me, is he as good an actor?”

“If not better,” you breathed, leaning back into your chair tensely, “He’s damn good.”

Amma smirked, “You’ve finally met your match, hmm, sweet-tart?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you rolled your eyes as you took a sip from your mug, “I could still kick his ass to next Tuesday.”

“Damn straight,” she said, rising from her seat and walking across the store before calling over her shoulder, “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Duke when you came home, ‘Sometimes you gotta let ‘em figure out things on their own, even if it looks like they’re gonna get hurt in the process.’”

Amma disappeared around the counter humming to the radio as her boots clicked in time along to the music across the wooden floorboards.

“Duke was really that worried?” You asked her.

“Sweetie, everyone was,” she replied as she came around the corner, a notebook in her hand, “You came home a lot more tired than you would ever admit, it was written all over your face.”

You scoffed under your breath and shook your head, fending off all memories of your return home and turning your attention back to Amma, “What do you got?”

She gently set down a black, leather-bound notebook then slid it across the table towards you as she took her seat, “You remember when I gave you yours?”

You nodded solemnly, reaching to gingerly pick up the notebook. It looked exactly like the one she had given you, except this one was brand new. The binding wasn’t threatening to fall apart and it wasn’t stained with ink on every page.

“Tell him to do the same thing you did,” Amma said, “fill it up with whatever he wants, memories, newspaper clippings, pictures, anything that he finds important or that he likes.”

“Thanks, Amma,” you smiled, rising from your chair, “I owe you one.”

——————————

Bucky’s eyes cracked open as the harsh sun filtered in through the window.

“Son of a bitch,” he groaned hoarsely as he rolled over in bed, stuffing his head under a pillow with a frustrated grunt. Another night went by and another morning he woke up more tired than the day before.

With another groan, he lifted himself slowly from the mess of blankets he was tangled in to sit lightly on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his eyes roughly, the cold from his metal hand helping to quell the drowsiness.

Even though coming to New Eden had stopped much of his paranoia, it hadn’t stopped the constant flow of memories that were flowing back to him.

They were seemingly random.

Faces would flash back and forth before his eyes. Some would speak or yell while others would scream between sobs, each leading him further into the dream before they would disappear. Leaving him all alone.

There were times he could remember a train, and the cold, and the fall.

Other times he would start his training all over again, the words, the muscle memory, the injections, the machine.

He found it difficult to shut out the words and the instincts that were coming back without him having to by ‘activated’. Every time someone turned their back to him, he fought away urges to run or to attack. There were times he was scared he would attack (F/N).

Maybe that’s what led to the worst dreams, seeing _her_.

She would be standing at the end of a long, dark hallway clad in a black tattered uniform stained with blood. Her eyes stood out bloodshot against her pale and thin figure, even so, she stood tall and defiant as lights flickered all around her. He couldn’t help but feel she knew _everything_ as she silently stared at him, into his entire being.

Most times she would disappear into the darkness like a ghost, while in others an explosion would rock the hallway after which she would smirk deviously with darkened eyes before darting into the dust, smoke, and falling debris.

He shuddered at the thought of the dream, he had no idea why it chilled him to the core like it did, but he shrugged it off nevertheless.

As he had said many times, there was no way he had known her so he contributed the dreams to his mind combining multiple memories, meshing them into one.

The voice in the back of his head mumbled something different.

_‘You know her, you knew her’ it pleaded in something barely above a whisper, ‘she’s dangerous, you’ve got to remember.’_

He brushed this voice off as well, he didn’t know whose it was and until he found out, he wouldn’t trust any of its words.

Bucky sighed, flopping back onto the bed in defeat and raking his fingers through his hair in aggravation. He was getting nowhere, confusion was around every corner, making it harder to differentiate between fact and fiction.

The sudden slamming of the downstairs door made him jump to his feet. Instinctively, he reached to his side for one of the knives he usually kept concealed there before he stopped himself.

It was probably returning home, he had heard her leave earlier that morning. He let himself relax for a second, grabbing a shirt from the floor and lazily slid it over his head.

“(F/N)?” A deep voice called from downstairs.

Bucky froze, half in and half out of the shirt.

No way in hell was that (F/N).

Quickly pulling the shirt the rest of the way on, he slid into a pair of jeans that were also laying on the floor and tugged on a pair of boots before silently creeping out of his room towards the stairs.

He grabbed his jacket from where it was hanging on the banister and shrugged it on as he made his way down the steps. Taking the pair of gloves that were in the pockets, he pulled them on, easily concealing his arm from sight.

“(F/N)?” The voice called again, closer this time as Bucky arrived on the lower landing.

Keeping himself out of sight of the front door, he stalked towards the wall.

Just as he was about to slip his back against the wall, he found himself face to face with none other than—

——————————

You were pulling up the lane to the house when you instantly did a double take.

There was someone there.

Not just someone, but the one person that you didn’t want snooping around.

Duke.

——————————

“Hey, Беда,” a voice called, from behind a computer server, “You coming or what? We’re going to be late.”

“Hang on, Belov,” Boone’s accented voice called back, “we’ve got a problem.”

“Eh?” The Russian hummed as he came around the tower, “Что не так?”

“Well, I was going through some of SHIELD’s old files and found a link to Hydra, so I followed it and—,” Boone began before she stopped, eyes widening as she took in the screen before her, “Christopher, get the Senator.”

“Беда, what’s wrong?”

“Now!” She exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and darting to another computer, rapidly pressing keys, “Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a situation.”

——————————

Bucky stiffened as Duke rounded the corner, immediately donning his cover, “Dugan,” he said, trying not to hiss through his teeth.

“Ahh, Sebastian,” Duke smiled slowly, his eyes darkening ever so slightly, “fancy meeting you here.”

“I live here,” he snarled, “what do you expect?”

“Oh nothing, nothing,” Duke said, stepping further into the room, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you leave (F/N)’s side.”

“She left early this morning, had to run to town.”

“Without her trusty guard dog?” The auburn haired man asked, blue eyes flicking around the room before locking with Bucky’s and he smirked.

Bucky’s jaw clenched as Duke began to circle him, “What?” He managed to grunt.

He’d been able to deal with Duke when (F/N) was around, but with her gone, he seemed a lot more threatening. Not to mention, Duke seemed eerily familiar. This made Bucky even tenser, everyone that he seemed to run in to was somehow affiliated with Hydra.

“Nothing, nothing” Duke repeated with a shrug and a shake of his head before he changed the subject, “Ya know you ain’t the first stray she’s brought home?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dugan,” he replied, moving so that he was standing straight across from Duke, but still had a straight line to the door.

Duke’s grin seemed to grow, “You should ask her about D—.”

“Duke, I swear to God,” (F/N)’s exasperated voice cut in from outside the door before it was thrown open with a bang, “I’m gonna skin you.”

Impeccable timing, Bucky thought with a sigh of relief.

“Oh come on, (F/N),” Duke cooed in her direction, “I’m just checking on you.”

(F/N) appeared around the corner, her fists balled and a look Bucky had never seen before plastered across her face.

It looked as though she was going to follow through with her threat. Her eyes cold and dark, her muscles tensed and poised to pounce.

She looked angry, she looked dangerous.

_‘Look out,’ the voice came again, ‘she’s dangerous.’_

“You don’t need to check up on me anymore, Duke, I’ve got Sebastian with me.”

Duke scoffed, Bucky stopped himself from doing the same.

Her faith in him had always surprised him. How anyone could possibly turn their back to an ex-assassin baffled him, but inviting them into their homes was positively insane.

The auburn haired man’s smirk wavered as (F/N) entered the room, stepping squarely between them.

“Your stray sure was quick on the draw when I got here,” Duke said, smile faltering as (F/N)’s eyes narrowed and a rumble left her throat. He took a step away from her.

“He’s not a dog,” she hissed, “he’s my friend.”

“So am I,” he tried to smile, taking another step back, “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Get out,” she growled, “get out before I throw you out.”

“(F/N), I—,”

“Out. Now.”

Duke took another step back, then made a beeline for the door.

A low, almost inhuman, snarl left (F/N)’s throat as she stood staring at the door before she stalked to the window to watch him leave.

“You okay?” She asked as Duke disappeared in a cloud of dust.

“I’m fine,” Bucky breathed as he came up behind her to stare out the window, “what’s his problem?”

“He’s not usually like this,” she said with a huff, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “he’s just overprotective.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” He asked leaning against the window frame to get a better look at her face, “Seems a little more personal to me.”

Her brows furrowed and she turned to face him, “What do you mean?”

Bucky searched her face for a second before he answered, “Does he know who I am?”

——————————

You could have choked, but thanked God for all your training and kept your poker face, “I don’t think so.”

Immediately, you kicked yourself for the lame answer, hoping that he hadn’t yet figured out how to read your face.

Bucky tilted his head, “Would you tell me if he did?”

You swallowed nervously, “ _If_ he knew,” you started, mirroring Bucky’s look, “I’d make him forget.”

It was Bucky’s turn to furrow his brows as he took in your words, finally realizing what exactly you would do to keep him out of harm’s way.

“You wouldn’t actually do that,” he whispered, pushing away from you.

“Try me.”

“I’m not worth it,” he said, walking away from the window.

“You’re a good man, Bucky,” you sighed, annoyance beginning to mount.

“You don’t know me,” he snapped, whipping around violently, making you jump, “you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t need to,” you croaked after a minute of silence, “that wasn’t you.”

“But I still did it as the Soldier and it doesn’t matter, I was still in the war.”

You paused, quirking an eyebrow with a smirk, “You remember being in the war?”

He was quiet for a moment, understanding the importance of what he said.

“I mean,” he stuttered, beginning to backtrack, “the museum said—and was…I—I…”

He trailed off, taking a shaky breath and shifting his weight nervously.

You smiled, “Bucky, do you realize what this means?”

“That I have no idea what the fuck is going on, ever?” Bucky asked, running an exasperated hand down his face.

“You’re getting your memories back!” You exclaimed, reaching for his shoulders, “That’s great!”

He flinched as you touched him, looking at you with tired eyes, “There are some things I wish wouldn’t come back. Everything is getting jumbled and confusing, I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.”

You frowned when he pushed you away.

“That’s kind of what I was worried about.”

He glanced at you curiously as you pulled the notebook Amma had given you from your jacket.

“Here, take it,” you said, handing it to him. He took it gently from you, “Write everything down. Every memory, every dream, anything you think you need to remember.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, flipping slowly through the pages.

“Think of it as a puzzle, put each piece in this book. Everything you remember is a piece of that puzzle and it's up to you to put it together, but I’m here if you need me. I’ve got your back.”

——————————

“Holy shit,” he breathed, looking at the screen in front of him, “This is—,”

“Bad? Terrible? Awful? Horrible?” Boone interrupted, twirling a knife through her fingers as she would a pencil, “Horrendous? Help me out here, I’m running out of synonyms.”

“All of the above.”

“I think we need to send in a team,” she said as he leaned back in his chair, “this is too big to ignore.”

“This is high level, Ms. Cavanaugh,” he murmured, closing his eyes, “This is an Avengers level mission, this is what they take care of.”

“They haven’t even noticed yet,” Boone exclaimed, rising to her feet, “We can’t sit here and do nothing while innocent people are hurt.”

“We can’t risk losing any of our operatives, not in a situation like this.”

“Then we send in scouts, just to take a look.”

“And who would you suggest, Ms. Cavanaugh?”

“The Alfa Team,” Boone said, straightening to her full height, “Led by Ghost.”

“Ghost is retired,” he sighed, massaging his temple.

“We need help,” the brunette pleaded, “She’s the only one who's dealt with things like this.”

He sighed, realizing he wasn’t winning this battle, “ _If_ we convince her to come back and lead the team, where would we be sending them?”

“Sokovia.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Беда - Trouble
> 
> Что не так - What's wrong?
> 
> \----------------
> 
> +Updates :  
> \+ 4/2/2018 - Totally forgot to add Boone's cutaways, like a freakin' spazz - Fixed!  
> \+ 4/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	22. East Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re bleeding out, (L/N),” he warned, ducking out of the way of an onslaught of bullets, “At this rate you only have—”
> 
> “Johnson,” you said with another dismissive wave of your hand, “take care of somebody else.”
> 
> He sighed leaning back against the transport tensely, “I finally got in touch with some evac choppers, they should be here any minute now.”
> 
> “Some use the rookie is,” you sighed, dodging the debris from a nearby blast.
> 
> “Eh, he’s just a little shellshocked is all,” Turner breathed before coughing on dust, “ain’t used to the firefight.”
> 
> “Better get used to it soon,” you grunted, popping out from behind your cover to loose a few rounds, “this is what we do.”
> 
> “Damn straight,” he grinned before tilting his head towards the sky, “Well, will you look at that.”
> 
> The roar of Apache Helicopters echoed through the sky with a glorious thunder.
> 
> “The Calvary has arrived,” you smiled weakly as Turner fist bumped you, “we might actually make it out of this one.”

> “Everybody knows when the East Wind blows that the Devil is on his way.”

——————————

He should have said something when he first saw the glint of a scope.

He was going to, in fact, but a soon as he locked eyes with the sniper, chaos erupted and bullets methodically rained down from above.

Whipping his handler out of harm’s way, he momentarily lost sight of the gunman. He couldn’t have cared less as long as his handler was unharmed, but when one of his men shoved the rifle into his hands, he instantly took it to his shoulder and turned back to the valley walls.

The shooter was safely hidden up in the rocks of the valley, barely visible to the untrained eye. And untrained these terrorists had been, thinking that the Americans wouldn’t send in a team to retrieve their stolen tech and that they wouldn’t come in without backup.

But it didn’t matter now, as the sniper began taking out some of his mercenaries.

With the rifle lifted to his shoulder, he set the hidden soldier in his sights.

Barely able to see the sniper through the scope, he evened his breathing, waiting for the slightest movement. Totally focused on this single task as hell came to life around him.

The shining of a flying brass shell caught his attention as another one of his men was hit and he decided enough was enough.

The blast from his rifle echoed through the desert valley, but he caught movement as the other shooter rolled out of the way and under the cover of a nearby rock.

With a growl, he let out an onslaught of bullets, a scare tactic of sorts. He paused for a moment, waiting for his rival to make the next move, finger poised on the trigger.

Just as he had hoped, the young shooter jumped out from behind his cover, rifle lifted to fire.

Luckily, he was faster. He let loose a single shot, aimed at the sniper’s center mass. Surprisingly, the sniper leaped out of the way, only to come face to face with the loose rock of the cliff.

As the shooter tumbled, he grunted in amusement, he didn’t know how many times he’d easily ended a cocky, young soldier.

He turned his back to the scene and tossed the rifle to one of his men before stepping into the vehicle with his handler.

“Идти,” he commanded and the vehicle took off into the desert.

His handler hummed lowly in annoyance, “What an absolute pain, I wonder who—,”

The shatter and crackle of bulletproof glass cut his handler off mid-sentence.

He whipped around to see that damn sniper silhouetted against the compound’s bright lights before he seemingly disappeared, like a ghost, into the pandemonium.

He’d missed, the sniper was still alive.

“Fascinating,” his handler crooned, looking at the spidering glass, “we must do some research into this.”

The last thing he remembered was the bright orange glow from an explosion at the compound and the silhouette of the ghostly soldier.

——————————

Bucky was up in a blink, his breath caught in the back of his throat as he bolted out of bed. Before he could completely comprehend what was happening, his notebook was in his hand, then ink was on paper.

——————————

A small smile graced your lips before you ducked underneath the old farm truck that you had up on the lift and pulled the oil drain plug, quickly hiding the smile from Bucky who was buried, nose-deep, in his notebook.

He’d only had it for a few days, and he was already filling the pages. It was the first thing that he did in the morning and the last thing he did at night.

You remembered when you had been committed to writing down everything you could remember until you couldn’t stand any more of the memories. Stashing the notebook away was the only way you could stop the memories…nobody would ever find it now.

You supposed it was different for Bucky.

He was so afraid that he would somehow lose all of the memories he had gained back, while you were desperately trying to forget.

You scoffed quietly to yourself as you backed away from the slow dripping oil that pattered into the pan on the floor and glanced toward Bucky who was still hastily jotting down notes.

“Hey, (F/N)?” Bucky suddenly called from the table he was seated at, startling you slightly.

“Yeah?” You grunted in a huff, wrenching the oil filter out of its socket.

“You were stationed in Afghanistan, right?”

“Yeah?” You squinted at the question suspiciously, tossing the filter into a nearby bin.

“What did it look like?”

“Desert,” you answered stiffly, taking the handkerchief out of your pocket to wipe your hands, “Why?”

He was quiet for a moment before you heard the chair he was sitting at scrape against the concrete and he appeared at your side, “I had this dream last night…”

You blinked in surprise as he trailed off and made eye contact with you. Was he really going to tell you about one of his dreams? Shaking off the look on your face, you motioned for him to continue.

“I’m in this valley, it’s dark and I’m surrounded by all these people, I think there was some kind of deal or trade happening. All the sudden, I see this little tiny glimmer and I look and—BAM—there’s a sniper hiding up in the rocks.”

He didn’t notice how your jaw clenched as he continued talking.

“I’m just about to say something to one of my guys when, all the sudden, this dude opens fire down into the valley. It’s a brilliant tactical move, we’re all sitting ducks at this point.”

He didn’t notice that you had gone pale.

“Anyways, one of my guys hands me this rifle and me and this sniper exchange fire before he falls off this damn cliff. I’m thinking I got him, so we take off. Next thing I know, fucker shoots the window of the car I’m in,” Bucky paused a second to catch his breath, skimming through his notes to see if he had forgotten anything.

He didn’t notice that you were holding your breath.

“I’m just trying to figure out where the hell we were,” he finished, jotting something else down in his notebook.

“Well, there are lots of places that have valleys, Bucky,” you managed to get out as you tried to get your breathing under control.

“There was something specific about it though…maybe it wasn’t the place…” he mumbled, leaning back against the workbench, “I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“I’m sure it’ll come to you,” you bit out coldly, not that Bucky noticed as he started writing in his notebook again.

“Maybe it was the sniper,” he breathed, chewing on the end of his pen “maybe I’d met him before—”

“Oh, (F/N),” Duke’s familiar voice sang from outside the shop, “I really must talk to you…”

“Oh, Jesus,” you sighed, but internally you were thankful for Duke’s timing as Bucky dropped the subject immediately and tensed at the sound of his voice.

“Come on in, bud,” you called before whispering to Bucky, “if you don’t want to deal with him today, go out the back.”

Bucky was gone like a shot.

——————————

“Fuckin’ Duke,” Boone snapped as she chucked her phone across the room, barely missing the head of a rookie, “Dumbass ain’t gonna be able to keep his cover, I swear to God…”

“Oh, so the mission report went well?” Belov asked, picking at his fingernails as Boone’s head hit the table in frustration, “Hmmm, apparently not.”

“He’s gonna get caught and he’s gonna get killed by an unstable World War Two vet, or worse.”

“Tell me, Беда,” the Russian said, leaning forward in his chair, “what’s worse than getting killed by an unstable World War Two veteran?”

“Getting killed by (F/N).”

——————————

As soon as Bucky was out the door, Duke stalked in.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he came in like a predator on the prowl, or what he thought looked like it.

In reality, he looked like a mix between a stumbling zombie and a struggling T-Rex.

He had no clue what he was doing.

“He’s not here, Duke,” you scowled, watching his eyes wander the shop before they snapped sharply to you.

“Hmm?” He raised a brow.

“Sebastian isn’t here,” you bit out, leaning against a toolbox.

“Unfortunate, but I came to talk to you,” he grinned.

Too much, you thought, twirling a wrench on your finger. He’s trying too much and it’s going to get him caught.

Duke’s grin grew as he took a step forward, it curled at the corners in a sadistic version of Boone’s crooked smile.

Perhaps that was another reason that Boone had warned you. She knew that he had been hanging out with her too much, that he was going to try something he wasn’t ready for.

Of course, Duke was always up to a challenge, but he often jumped into things too soon.

You’d known him all your life, you’d put up with him all your life.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

“You’re going to get caught,” you growled, cutting him off as he began to speak.

His smile crumpled with a glare, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” you hissed, tossing the wrench in your hand with a flick of the wrist.

Duke flinched as it skimmed the side of his head and clattered to the ground. You pushed off from the toolbox and towards him.

“Do you understand how much it took to get him here?” You asked, your darkened eyes locking with his as he took a stutter step backward, “How much it took to get him to trust me?”

“(F/N),” Duke put his hands up in surrender, “I—I—”

“Do you honestly think you’re fooling anyone?” You hissed, “You think I’m stupid?”

“He stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated.

“You’re spying on me, Duke!” You exclaimed, “My best friend is spying on me! What has the world come to?”

“(F/N), you know it’s not like that—”

“So you admit to spying on me? Duke,” you sighed, “I thought you were better than this.”

He relaxed for a moment when you stopped your advance. Running a hand down his face, he dropped the guise he’d been keeping up.

“How’d you find out?” He asked, tired eyes meeting yours.

“Besides the fact you’ve been acting like a creepy-ass douche?” You raised an eyebrow, “Me and Boone had a little heart to heart.”

“Tattletale,” he mumbled, looking away and clenching his fists at his side nervously, “You know this ain’t about you, (F/N).”

“Anything that involves him automatically brings me into it,” you said, rolling to the balls of your feet and watching him carefully.

“He’s a lunatic, (F/N), he’s volatile, unstable,” Duke plead stiffly, still recovering from Boone’s betrayal, “you can’t trust him.”

“The only person that I can’t trust seems to be you, _buddy_ ,” you snapped, his face dropped and he looked away from you. You sighed at the sight, “Look, Duke, he’s just trying to find his way, to figure out who he was.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Duke said, shaking off what had just plagued him and angrily meeting your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean anything? Duke, he’s trying to get back his memories, understand what—”

“Without memories, he ain’t nothing.”

You had your hand around his neck before he even realized you’re moving, before _you realized_.

You didn't realize just how fast you were.

Nor did you realize how much momentum you had as you moved him back into the concrete wall, mowing over a toolbox on your way by.

It was scary, really, how your instinct got the better of you.

The clattering of tools masked the sound of Duke’s back smacking against the concrete.

For as big and strong as he was, he was a rag doll against you.

“(F/N),” he managed to choke out, panic tearing at his eyes as he took in the murderous look on your face.

“Say it again, buddy,” you hissed, eyes narrowed to slits as your black-stained hand tightened around his neck, “Say it again and I'll kill you, right here, right now.”

“Hey, (F/N), everything okay in there?” Bucky called as he poked his head slowly into the shop, “I heard—”

He stopped when he saw you and Duke.

“Just dandy,” Duke wheezed.

“Peachy,” you seethed, “Duke was just leaving, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled rigidly, releasing Duke from your hold and backing away from him before he took off in a dead sprint.

He slipped past Bucky before disappearing.

——————————

Christopher Belov cackled as Boone’s phone soared through the air and shattered against the cinderblock wall.

“This ain’t funny, dirtball,” she snapped, running her hands through her hair and swiveling back and forth in her chair, “If that idiot ruins this, a lot of people could be hurt.”

“Perhaps, you should start preparing for the worst,” Belov mused, lazily running his hand over a server tower, “Get a new lead.”

“Nobody else can handle this.”

——————————

“The fuck was that about?” Bucky asked, positively bewildered.

“Would you believe me if I said he was into it?” You replied dryly, beginning to gather scattered tools.

“No!” He exclaimed, “You—he—Fuck no!”

“Damn,” you mumbled, rubbing your temples at the onset of a migraine before you scoffed, “We had a minor disagreement.”

“If that’s minor I’d hate to see major.”

“It's not pretty,” you confessed, setting your toolbox back on its feet, “but hopefully it'll get my point across.”

“And what was your point?” He asked, grabbing a handful of tools, “I didn’t picture you as the violent type.”

“To leave you alone,” you sighed, tossing a set of wrenches into the toolbox, “he doesn’t seem to understand that you’re not going to hurt me.

Bucky was quiet for a minute as you continued to grab tools from the dirt crusted floor.

“I know I’ve asked you this before,” he said quietly, you glanced up at him. He was leaning against a workbench, arms folded over his chest and rocking his weight from side to side, “Does he know who I am.”

Fuck.

“No,” you scoffed, mentally backtracking for an excuse.

“Then what is it?” Bucky asked, visibly frustrated, “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” you tried, “Duke’s just protective.”

“He thinks I’m going to hurt you?” His eyes widened as they snapped to yours.

“No, Buck—”

“He’s probably right,” he mumbled, nose crinkling in frustration, “never know when I might lose control.”

“Hey—”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said, running a hand down his face, “I knew something was gonna go wrong—”

“He thinks we’re together, Barnes,” you cut in with the best excuse you could think of.

Stupid.

“What?” His eyes snapped to you in confusion, “Wait…what?”

“He thinks we’re together, like, you know boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Man, you were out of practice.

Bucky blinked a few times, total confusion painted on his face.

“You’re telling me, he’s been a fuckin’ creep this whole damn time…because he thinks that we’re…”

“Dating,” you finished when he trailed off, “I told you, he’s overprotective and I don’t always bring home the best…”

It was your turn to trail off as Bucky began to snicker under his breath. The laugh grew until it echoed through the entire building.

“It’s not that funny, Barnes,” you smiled, putting the last of the tools into the toolbox and starting towards him,

“But it is,” he said through his laughter, “I was so worried he was on to me.”

A knot formed in your stomach, but you smiled through it.

It was getting harder and harder to lie to him.

——————————

_Gunfire roared all around you, bullets whistled past you…sometimes through you._

_You flinched as a round tore through your abdomen and you dove behind a transport truck. Blood poured between your fingers as you pressed your hand against the wound with a groan._

_“(F/N)!” Turner exclaimed, sliding behind your cover in a cloud of dust, “You okay, baby?”_

_His hands fluttered over the oozing wound before you waved him away, “Don’t worry about it, take care of somebody else.”_

_“You’re bleeding out, (L/N),” he warned, ducking out of the way of an onslaught of bullets, “At this rate you only have—”_

_“Johnson,” you said with another dismissive wave of your hand, “take care of somebody else.”_

_He sighed leaning back against the transport tensely, “I finally got in touch with some evac choppers, they should be here any minute now.”_

_“Some use the rookie is,” you sighed, dodging the debris from a nearby blast._

_“Eh, he’s just a little shellshocked is all,” Turner breathed before coughing on dust, “ain’t used to the firefight.”_

_“Better get used to it soon,” you grunted, popping out from behind your cover to loose a few rounds, “this is what we do.”_

_“Damn straight,” he grinned before tilting his head towards the sky, “Well, will you look at that.”_

_The roar of Apache Helicopters echoed through the sky with a glorious thunder._

_“The Calvary has arrived,” you smiled weakly as Turner fist bumped you, “we might actually make it out of this one.”_

_“What’re you talking about, girlie?” Turner questioned with a playful glint in his eye, “We always make it out al—”_

You jerked upright from your sleep, the sound of the blast and Turner’s frantic yells of agony echoing hoarsely in your mind.

_The dust settled, Turner’s screams didn’t._

A shuddered breath left your throat as you stifled a whimper in your pillow.

_A jagged shard of metal was sticking out of your calf, catching on a rock as you crawled toward him._

_“I can’t feel my legs!”_

The frightened whimper turned to a frustrated grunt and a fist collided with the pillow in anger.

_There was so much blood. Your sticky hands clasped onto his._

You were sick of it, all of it.

The dreams, the lies, the secrets.

All. Of. It.

With another grunt, you leaped out of bed and was out the door like a bat out of hell. There was a part of you that wished you would have stayed out of this.

_“Tell my wife and kids I love them.”_

Aftermath.

SHIELD.

The Avengers.

But, then again…where would you be if you had turned your back to any of it?

_“Don’t be so cliche, you’re gonna make it. I’ll get you outta here.”_

You shook your head, there was no point in thinking about it. What’s done was done. There was nothing you could do about it now.

_“Now who sounds cliche?”_

Taking a deep breath, you found yourself wandering outside the house and towards the barn where you had set up a makeshift gym.

You’d been coming here more and more recently as the stress caused by Duke and Bucky began to mount. The stress was easiest relieved by beating the shit out of the good ‘ol sandbag.

You easily slipped on wraps before going straight for the sandbag and landing a heavy punch.

Before the bag had even swung back to you, you landed a kick, then an uppercut as the sounds of the battlefield came and went.

_The helicopters circled above you like vultures, raising swirling clouds of dust towards the darkening skies._

Beads of sweat formed on your face as you took no mercy on the inanimate object a part of you wished were real.

_“They’re gonna land, buddy, we’re gonna get you home.”_

_“They don’t got the cover to land, (F/N),” Turner murmured, his eyes fluttering wildly trying to stay open, “Save yourself.”_

_“Jesus Christ,” you rolled your eyes as you dropped to the ground beside him to avoid machine gun fire, “for the last time, I’m not gonna let you die out here.”_

_Turner’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hand went limp._

You whipped around, swinging wildly at the presence you felt behind you. Fully expecting it to be a figment of the past, you were caught off guard when your fist was stopped midair.

A gasp caught in the back of your throat as you blinked and saw a glint of metal.

_The light glinted off his arm as he gently lifted you from the wreckage._

“You okay, (F/N)?” Bucky’s voice brought you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, still tense as Bucky’s hand clenched around your fist, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He looked at you strangely, cocking his head to the side.

_“You’ve got fight in you, I like it.”_

“What?”

“You punched a hole through your punching bag.”

“I did not, that’s not possible,” you scoffed.

Bucky nodded behind you, you craned your neck to see.

Sure enough, sand was pouring out of the bag and pooling on the floor beneath it.

_“Come now, Lieutenant, tell me what you know.”_

“Captain America started it,” you said, turning back to Bucky with a weak smile, “He’s got a killer left hook.”

“Right,” Bucky rolled his eyes, not convinced. He dropped your fist as you took a step back, “C’mon, let’s get you inside, you look like shit.”

_“Liar, liar, do you ever stop?”_

You frowned as he turned away from you, aggression and anger still pricking at the back of your neck.

“I’m not done,” you murmured, clenching your jaw at the sound of your cracked voice as it echoed in the barn.

“Babe, you don’t have anything to fight against, you broke—”

“You,” you said, eyes darkening as you pushed away another memory.

_“You can’t stop, you won’t stop—it’s hardwired into you…isn't it?”_

__“__ What?” He turned around with wide, curious eyes.

_Sweat stung at all of your wounds as the hot sun beat down on you._

“Fight me,” you growled, a small smirk growing on your lips.

“(F/N),” he warned as you began sizing him up.

“Come on, Soldier Boy, I’ll go easy on you,” you winked as you began to advance, “Show me what you got.”

He held his ground as you came within striking distance.

“What’re you afraid of?” You asked with a tilt of your head, “That I’ll kick your ass?”

“That I’ll hurt you,” he breathed as you took another step closer.

“Try me.”

You brought your fists up in front of you with a grin.

He hesitated.

“Chicken,” you snarled before throwing an experimental jab.

He knocked it away easily, his eyes instantly snapping to your every move.

You threw another, then another, both he easily blocked.

Grinning, you threw a combo, quickening the pace with every move you made.

Then you changed it up, swiftly bringing your leg to kick him in the gut.

He caught it before it made contact, leaving you a tad off balance as he held it securely against his hip.

You waited for a moment, giving him time to counter.

“Fine,” he breathed, twisting your foot just enough to throw you a little more off balance, “You wanna play? Let’s play.”

“Game on,” you smiled as his grip on your ankle tightened.

You hooked your foot around his hip before leaping at him and simultaneously pulling him closer. As he let go of your leg, you clasped your hands around the back of his neck then brought your free knee up, trying to connect it with his stomach.

He shoved you away before you could complete your move.

You stumbled backward before you corrected yourself.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked as he began circling you.

He threw a punch before you could answer, you grunted in response. Hitting his arm just enough to send the punch off course.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you hissed as he came at you again.

“I’m just makin’ conversation, doll,” he drawled with a smug grin before you kicked him in the gut, “Fuck.”

“Watch your mouth,” you chuckled as he threw another combo and you easily dodged it.

“Bite me,” he bit out, mirroring your chuckle as he backed away from another one of your attacks.

——————————

It surprised you just how well you could keep up with him…then again, you had the sneaking suspicion he was going easy on you.

“You’re pulling your punches,” you snarled, catching one of his punches and wrenching it out of the way while bringing up your leg to kick him in the stomach.

“Uh-uh, baby girl, not again,” he grunted, grabbing your leg while sweeping his to take out your other knee, resulting in him pinning you to the floor.

“Got you,” he breathed, his hair tickling your face as he gently held your arms above your head, “What was that about kicking my ass?”

You curled your leg around his waist as he spoke before wrenching him onto his back and pulling yourself on top, straddling his waist.

“I’d say I did a pretty damn good job,” you grinned, using both hands to pin down his metal arm as his other hand landed on your hip.

He scoffed, laying back into the floor, “Cheater.”

“You were pulling your punches, that’s just as bad.”

Bucky chuckled as you let him go and helped him to his feet.

“Thank you,” you called over your shoulder, taking off the wraps around your hands, “I needed that.”

“Are you okay?” He asked again as you walked away.

“What?”

“You were upset earlier,” he said, following you at a distance, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you shrugged rolling the wraps up.

“Liar,” Bucky growled from behind you, his breath playing along the back of your neck.

You swung around with an elbow aimed at his face.

He ducked out of the way with a grin, smoothly maneuvering your arm out of the way before his smile dropped.

“I’m serious, (F/N), are you okay?” He asked earnestly, his eyes searching yours worriedly.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, pulling away from him, “just, you know, nightmares.”

He blinked in surprise, following you as you left the barn, “I didn’t know you had them too. You don’t show it.”

“Years of practice,” you sighed, gravel crunched under your feet as you headed for the house.

“I don’t think that’s healthy.”

You scoffed, “You’re one to talk, Raccoon Eyes.”

He rolled his eyes with a small smile, reaching for the door and ushering you inside.

“What was it about?” He asked as you flicked on the house lights.

You swallowed harshly, freezing in place.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly when you didn’t answer immediately, “That’s too personal.”

“No, it’s alright,” you smiled tiredly, turning to face him. You sighed, leaning against the wall for support, “It was about the day all my friends were murdered in front of me.”

——————————

“I hate my goddamn job,” Boone said hoarsely to Belov who was typing at a nearby computer, “stuck in the goddamn basement all day, babysitting rookies and wrangling idiots—”

“Boone, I’m getting another energy signature from the base in Sokovia,” Belov interrupted, Boone sat up in her chair, “They’re at it again.”

Boone slid over to look at the monitor, “Shit,” she whispered.

“It’s getting stronger.”

“Call in the team, we need to go…now.”

“What about Duke and the Ghost?”

“Tell Duke to pull his head out of his ass and get the job done.”

——————————

You were thankful that Bucky hadn’t pressed too much about your dream, instead, he had just nodded sadly and sent you to bed as though he was your mother.

You were much less thankful that he was now shaking you awake at the asscrack of dawn.

“(F/N), get up,” he whispered, “We have problems.”

“Buuuuckkkyyy,” you groaned, curling tighter into your blankets, “we already know you have problems.”

“Not me,” he hissed, “We.”

You batted his hand away from your shoulder, burying yourself underneath a pillow.

He yanked it away from you, “(F/N), Duke’s here again.”

You snapped awake it less than a second, “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

“If he asks, I’m not here,” Bucky whispered before he disappeared into his bedroom.

“Coward,” you called after him as you slid out of bed.

Glancing out the window you saw Duke leaning nervously against his old beat up truck. He shifted his weight from side to side, looking at the door to the house before looking towards the road and wringing his hands.

“You okay there, buddy?” You called as you stepped out of the house.

His eyes flicked to yours, “(F/N), I—I’m sorry I didn’t…I fucked up.”

You frowned, “What? What did you do?”

“I fucked up,” he repeated, “Belov’s gonna kill me or worse, Boone’s gonna kill me.”

“What did you do?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, he flinched away from your touch, “Duke, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, running a hand down his face, “I shouldn’t have worried so much about the Soldier, I should have told you…”

“Told me what?”

“They found Hydra,” he spat out, avoiding your gaze.

“What?”

“Boone found a piece of Hydra, they’ve been on the run for months, but she tracked them down…”

You scoffed, “Duke, that’s great news. Aftermath can finally—”

“They’ve been experimenting on people again, (F/N),” he whimpered, “We weren’t fast enough.”

“What?” You hissed, “What do you mean you weren’t fast enough? None of their experiments have been successful since the Winter Soldier.”

“Strucker,” Duke whispered, “He’s the brains of the century.”

“My God, Duke,” you breathed panic beginning to grip your body, glancing towards the house, “have they been successful?”

“We don’t know,” he admitted, beginning to pace back and forth, “Boone’s sending in a recon team, but…”

“But what?” You asked.

“They want you to lead.”

“Duke,” you sighed, “I can’t.”

“Please, (F/N),” Duke all but begged, almost falling to his knees, “You’re the only one with the kind of experience.”

“Call the Avengers,” you snapped, backing away from him as though burned “I’m retired.”

“(F/N), wait,” he held up his hands pleadingly.

“No,” you said with a shake of your head, “You should know better—”

“Novak’s with them.”

——————————

You rifled through your drawers, throwing things over your shoulder while placing others in a duffle bag.

“(F/N),” Bucky called from behind you, “(F/N), what’s going on.”

You paused for a second to come up with a lie.

_“You can’t stop, can you?”_

“A friend of mine is in the hospital,” you said slowly, “Got hit in Iraq, they don’t know how much longer he has left.”

“(F/N), I’m so sorry,” Bucky’s hand landed on your shoulder.

You flinched, not at his touch, but at the lie.

“What can I do?” He asked, “Do you need me to come—”

“No,” you said before he could finish, he frowned, “Look, we can’t risk you being in public and bringing you to a hospital…”

“It wouldn’t work, I understand,” he paused, taking in the look on your face before sliding his hand to your hip and drawing you towards him, “you need to slow down, you look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Buck,” you warned, his hand was off your hip immediately, you softened “Thank you. I'll call the house when I get there. I’ll have Amma bring some groceries and I'll have the Roper Twins stop by to make sure everything’s okay, okay?”

He nodded as you zipped up your bag, “I’ll be okay. Will you?”

“Of course,” you managed a smile, “Call me if you have any problems.”

——————————

“(F/N), you need to breathe,” Duke said as he drove down the tarmac towards the C-17 that was priming its engines, “You’ve held your breath for the last mile.”

“Is that the same…” you pointed towards the plane.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “We’ve done a few modifications, but that’s her.”

“Is it bad that I’m nervous?” You asked, a pit forming in your stomach.

Duke laughed, “You’ve fought aliens, (F/N), friggin’ aliens. You’ve fought alongside Captain America, that’s like twenty times more stressful than this.”

Your jaw clenched as he came to a stop alongside the aircraft.

“You’ll do fine,” he assured you, slamming the truck into park, “Trust me, you’re the best that’s ever been, you’ve got this.”

You released a shaky breath, “What’s the plan.”

“The C-17 will take us to Delta Base that's right off the coast of Western Europe, then we’ll take a stealth jet into Sokovia.”

“Okay,” you said, assuring yourself before stepping out of the truck and onto the tarmac, “Let’s do this.”

Duke clapped you on the back with a grin, “I’ve got your back, Ghostie, we’ve got this.”

You couldn’t help but grin with him as the pit in your stomach suddenly dissolved and you could breathe easy. A sense of ease came over you with every step you took towards the plane as though it was welcoming you back.

You felt as though you had finally come home.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +Updates :  
> +2/24/2018 - Format Match & Grammar Check


	23. USS : Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When will you learn?” Novak cooed, rising from his chair and striding over to the table to lean over you, “Tell me what I want and I’ll stop the pain.”
> 
> “And when will you learn,” you snarled through gritted teeth, “that you ain’t getting nothing outta me?”
> 
> “We shall see, my dear,” he raised an eyebrow, “I have yet to exhaust all the things I can do to you to make you talk.”
> 
> You managed a smirk, masking the fear that was sent through your veins, “Bring it on.”
> 
> “That’s what I like about you, Lieutenant, the fearlessness,” he grinned, “But you can only push it away for so long.”
> 
> He walked away from you, clicking his pen and jotting down a few notes, “Believe me, I will make you talk, whether you like it or not.”

> “Stand by those who stand by you.” 

——————————

_“Swear to God,” you managed to slur over the droning engines as Turner finished checking you over, “the dude had a metal arm.”_

_From the corner of the med bay, you heard Danny scoff._

_“Ain’t funny,” you growled while attempting to turn toward him only to be stopped by Turner’s steady hand._

_“And I’m telling you, it ain’t possible,” Gonzalez mocked._

_“I saw what I saw,” you said with a hiss as Turner pressed a little too hard on your shoulder._

_“Both of you need to stop,” Turner sighed, setting extra bandages on the tray beside him, “we have bigger things to worry about.”_

_“What could possibly be more worrying than a dude with a metal arm?” Danny mocked again, you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out at him with as much spite as you could muster._

_“How did they know we were coming?”_

——————————

_How did they know we were coming?_

You inhaled sharply, bringing yourself back to the present as the C17 began making its descent. A stormy ocean raged ceaselessly outside, waves seemed to crash dangerously close to the aircraft from where you watched at a window.

Memories had begun fading in and out, blurring the past and the present, the second you stepped foot onto the plane.

_They knew we were coming._

The feeling of belonging you had felt when you and Duke boarded disappeared almost immediately. It was replaced by a nervousness that had been eating away at you for hours, instant regret, the moment the C17 took off. 

You had let revenge cloud your judgment, once again. Instead of thinking things through, you had jumped into something a little too soon. Even though Duke said it was just going to be an easy recon mission, you didn’t believe him. Aftermath always had an ulterior motive, 

“Nice day, eh?” Duke asked with a soft chuckle from behind you.

You frowned as you turned to face him, he sighed when he caught sight of it.

“I’m sorry, (F/N),” he started placing a hand on your shoulder as he moved to stand next to you, “I know you don’t want to do this anymore, but we need you.”

A scoff escaped your throat and you swiped his hand away from you, refusing to believe him, “Need me? Please. Aftermath has done just fine without me.”

Duke pursed his lips into a thin line as you backed away from him with a shake of your head. 

“You don’t need me,” you muttered under your breath as your mind raced to what Aftermath could possibly be up to before you blinked. Bucky.

“You’re up to something, Duke Dugan, and I swear to God if this is to get me out of the way so Barnes is an easier target, I will kill you.”

It was Duke’s turn to scoff, “This has nothing to do with the Soldier—Barnes, or, Sebastian. Whatever the hell he’s going by now. This has to do with you.”

Your jaw clenched as he motioned for you to follow him. He led you from the living quarters through the belly of the plane that used to be yours and Turner’s workspace. It was now simply a dark storage space for cargo and was littered with boxes and various pieces of junk.

“Do you know how many people were a part of Aftermath when it started?” Duke asked over his shoulder as he maneuvered through the mess.

“Just my team and Boone, I think,” you answered, sliding past a wooden container.

Duke nodded, “You know how many we have now?”

You shook your head.

“Thousands,” he said, stopping to look at you, “We handpick the best recruits from all over the world. We’ve got agents from MI6, Russian Spetsnaz, Mossad and soldiers and pilots from China to Egypt to Brazil. And ever since SHIELD fell, we’ve had the first pick of recruits.”

“What’s that have to do with me?” You asked as Duke turned to keep leading you through the cargo hold.

“We may have the best of the best, but that ain’t shit if they can’t work together. That was the beauty of the original Alpha Team. Your teamwork was seamless, you guys worked together better than any team in the world. The difference between the old and new teams? They don’t know how to mesh, that’s why we need you.”

_“Tell me, my little phantom, how do you create something like you? What must we put a person through to become perfection?”_

“To train them to be the perfect soldiers?” You spat stopping in your tracks and mentally pushing away all the trials Weston had put you through to earn the mantle of Ghost, “I don’t think so.”

“Not perfect, nobody is perfect,” he shook his head, “we just need them to work as a team.”

_“You are perfection,” Novak purred in your ear, gently smoothing away sweat-soaked hair, “a Goddess of War.”_

“We both know my most successful missions were to ones where I went solo.”

“But you still knew how to work with your team,” Duke was pleading now, his eyes searching yours, “Please, (F/N). Just this once?”

You sighed at the puppy dog eyes that looked up into yours, “What’s the plan?”

“It’s just recon,” he perked up, “it’ll be smooth and simple, nothing can go wrong.”

“Famous last words,” you groaned. 

——————————

_“Tell me, my little phantom, how do you create something like you? What must we put a person through to become perfection?” Novak asked from across the room, adjusting his glasses as he clicked a pen and started taking notes. You could barely see him from where you were strapped onto a table, he was lurking just outside of the bright light that was burning down onto you._

_You didn’t answer, instead clenching your jaw shut and glaring at him._

_“Hm, not very talkative today are you?” He mumbled not bothering to even look at you, his pen scratched against the paper before he gestured to one of his lackeys and a pulse of electricity tore through your body._

_You pushed back a yelp, stopping it in your throat before it could reach Novak’s ears._

_“It’s okay, Ghostie,” Novak grinned, setting down his notebook and rising from his chair to stride into the light. His glasses slipped down his nose as he walked, light glinted off them as he came closer, “You can scream for me.”_

_“Go fuck yourself,” you managed to bite out._

_Another pulse._

_You groaned._

_Novak chuckled._

_“What makes you tick?” He asked, leaning down on the table to look into your eyes, “What makes you, you?”_

——————————

“Welcome to the USS Alliance,” Duke said as the C17 came to a stop. Rain pelted the runway of the aircraft carrier as the ramp of the plane opened and he led you down it, “Otherwise known as Delta Base. Ain’t she a beaut?”

“Adorable,” you growled, slipping on your jacket and yanking on the hood as you stepped into the rain after him. Waves crashed up onto the deck as flight crews scurried around you.

“Officer on deck!” Duke bellowed across the tarmac, the flight crews froze in place looking like deer in the headlights.

“Duke,” you warned under your breath, “don’t make this a scene.”

“Attention!” He ignored you as he trudged through the storm and the crews snapped to attention, getting pelted by the rain.

“Dammit, Dugan,” you hissed, “At ease, crew. Carry on.”

They immediately returned to their duties as you caught up to Duke.

“Did you really have to do that?” You asked through a clenched jaw.

“You’re a Lieutenant, (F/N),” he said, heading for the control tower, “You deserve the respect, you’ve earned it.”

“How many times do I have to tell people that I’m retired?” You rolled your eyes, gathering your jacket tighter around you.

“Once you step onto the Alliance, you ain’t retired no more,” Duke answered without missing a beat, “You are and always will be Lieutenant (F/N) (L/N), the Ghost of Aftermath.”

“How inspirational,” you mumbled under your breath as the doors to the tower slid open and you stepped out of the rain to find yourself in a long hallway lined with soldiers at attention. At the end of the hallway stood a woman with hot pink hair, styled into a mohawk. Next to her was a man, also standing at attention wearing a green flight suit.

“Welcome to the USS Alliance, Ghost, it’s nice to have you.”

“Boone?”

——————————

_Novak hummed lightly as he settled back into his chair, gently flipping through the pages of the file in his hand._

_“It says here that your parents were killed when you were three,” he began, adjusting his glasses to sit higher on his nose, “Can you tell me how?”_

_You didn’t even bother to send a glare his way, instead staring helplessly and the ceiling. You’d long given up on struggling against your restraints, but your will to piss of Merek was still fully intact._

_“Car crash,” he answered his own question with a wave of his pen, “Tell me, how does that make you feel?”_

_You set your jaw at the question, focusing on counting how many tiled lines the ceiling instead of his prying questions._

_Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Novak nodding to one of his goons. A few seconds later, a pulse tore through your body and forced a yelp from your mouth._

_“When will you learn?” Novak cooed, rising from his chair and striding over to the table to lean over you, “Tell me what I want and I’ll stop the pain.”_

_“And when will you learn,” you snarled through gritted teeth, “that you ain’t getting nothing outta me?”_

_“We shall see, my dear,” he raised an eyebrow, “I have yet to exhaust all the things I can do to you to make you talk.”_

_You managed a smirk, masking the fear that was sent through your veins, “Bring it on.”_

_“That’s what I like about you, Lieutenant, the fearlessness,” he grinned, “But you can only push it away for so long.”_

_He walked away from you, clicking his pen and jotting down a few notes, “Believe me, I will make you talk, whether you like it or not.”_

———————————

“What the fuck?” 

You couldn’t help it as the pink-haired Boone strode forward looking like a punk rock legend with a leather vest, mini skirt, boots, and spiked studs galore along with an array of piercings on her lips, brows, and nose.

“You like?” She asked, sticking out her tongue to reveal an electric blue piercing before grinning her signature smile.

“It’s…interesting,” you stuttered with Duke snickering beside you.

“At ease, солдаты,” the man next to Boone said to the soldiers before turning his attention to you with a smirk, “You don’t have to be nice, Lieutenant, you can tell her she looks ridiculous.”

He earned himself a glare from Boone which only made his smirk grow.

“Lieutenant (L/N),” Duke cut in, “Meet Lieutenant Christopher Belov, former Russian Special Forces.”

“Lieutenant,” you nodded, offering your hand to him.

“Lieutenant,” he grinned, taking your hand, “I’ve heard much about you.”

“Good things?” You flinched, knowing Boone had probably told him _everything_ about you.

“Of course,” the Russian said, “Agent Cavanaugh speaks highly of you.”

Boone cleared her throat, “If you’d excuse us, Belov, we need to get Lieutenant (L/N) briefed.”

Christopher nodded before disappearing down the halls of the Alliance, a team of soldiers at his heels.

“Soooo,” Boone drawled, circling around you, “how was your flight?”

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” you said, looking her up and down, “explain.”

She grinned, hooking an arm around your waist and leading you through the maze of hallways of the ship.

“I was undercover in Berlin,” she explained, “Me and Belov infiltrated a hacktivist group to make sure they weren’t linked up to Hydra.”

“And they weren’t?”

“Nah, they were more or less harmless.”

“And the look?”

She paused, looking herself over, “I dunno, I kinda like it.”

You scoffed. You didn’t know how she did it, but every look she had, she could pull off.

“Not too big on the piercings,” she continued, rolling one on her ear through her fingers, “But the hair? I could live with it.”

“As long as you don’t poke someone’s eye out,” Duke chimed in from behind you.

“I do not need your opinion, Dugan,” Boone snapped.

“Aw, you still angry at me?”

“Yes,” she answered simply, “we don’t spy on friends.”

“Hmm…” you hummed, turning to face him, “Where have I heard that before?”

“Shut up,” Duke rolled his eyes, “I was just following orders.

“Sometimes you just gotta say ‘fuck it’ and throw orders out the window, Dugan,” Boone said, throwing her hands up in the air, “Speakin’ of which, how’s Sergeant Barnes?”

You blinked in surprise at her question, it was laced with genuine concern and curiosity, cemented with the concerned look in her eyes as she turned to face you. You didn’t know if the concern was for Bucky or for you.

“He’s getting better,” you answered as Boone came to a stop next to a door, “he’s doing really well.”

“Good,” she grinned, “Now, let’s get on with the task at hand.”

She placed her hand on a scanner next to the door. The device scanned her hand for a moment before blinking green and the door slid open.

“Welcome to the Perch,” she beckoned you inside.

The room was decked out in electronics, reminding you of the control room on one of SHIELD’s Helicarriers. In the center was a table projecting holographs into the air above it.

“Aftermath has two seaborne bases and three bases on land,” Boone explained, striding into the room as though she owned it, “From here, I can monitor every movement from ours to terrorist organizations around the world. Ever since D.C., I’ve been following Hydra’s movements.”

She sat down at a monitor and began typing away at it. With a few simple keystrokes, the lights in the room dimmed and the holotable activated. Standing from the monitor, she returned to the holotable and motioned for you to come closer.

“Approximately four weeks ago, I got an energy signal—a strong one—coming from a forest in Sokovia,” with a flick of her fingers, Boone brought up a map of Sokovia along with energy readings, “I dug a little deeper and found a Hydra cell hidden in a base there. I’ve been monitoring it ever since, and it’s been quiet, until about a week ago when there was another energy spike.”

Boone brought up another energy reading, it almost doubles\d the first. 

“I sent in an unmanned drone to find out what it was…”

“And?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“It didn’t make it two feet into the forest before it was destroyed,” Duke said, coming around the table to stand across from you.

“Shot down?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Utterly destroyed, like a trash compactor got to it, it was gnarly.”

“They’ve been trying to keep their base off the radar, but with Belov’s help, we’ve been able to get a clear picture, and that’s when we got this,” Boone said, swiping away the maps and bringing up a camera feed.

A group of soldiers stood at the foot of the base as an SUV pulled up. As it stopped, a man emerged from the group with a woman trailing behind him. Another man in a grey suit slid out of the SUV and walked to what looked like the man in charge. A sudden blur shot through the camera and another man appeared next to the woman.

“The hell?” You asked as it began to replay.

“That’s Baron Wolfgang von Strucker,” Duke said, pointing at the main man, “And that’s—,”

“Novak,” you interrupted, “and the other two?”

“We don’t know,” Boone admitted, “But we’re calling them the Enhanced.”

“Strucker’s been using something to give people superpowers,” Duke said as Boone shut off the camera feed, “We don’t know how many there are or what they can do.”

“That’s why we need to go in for recon,” Boone cut in, “We need to find out how many there are and what their threat level is before we can plan a strike.”

“And Novak?” You asked, glancing at Boone curiously.

“We need to find out why he’s there. If they’ve made a breakthrough, Novak is the real threat.”

“You’re the only one who’s dealt with superheroes and Novak before, (F/N),” Duke placed a hand on your shoulder, “We need your help.”

“Okay,” you breathed, running a hand down your face trying to process everything, “Duke said there was a team going in with me?”

Boone grinned as she glanced at Duke, “Oh yeah, you’re gonna like this.”

——————————

_“Who else is on your team?” Novak asked from the chair._

_“Just us,” you managed to rasp, barely able to lift your head._

_He’d changed tactics, leaving electricity behind and opting for lashes instead. They’d hung you, hands above your head, from the ceiling and he’d let his lackeys do their worst._

_“You’re sure?” Novak quirked an eyebrow, rising from his chair and striding across the room, “You’re not lying to me?”_

_“No,” you whimpered, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, “Please, it’s the truth, it’s just us.”_

_“The pilots?”_

_“Borrowed from the Air Force,” you babbled, “we don’t have any pilots on hand.”_

_“Tech support?”_

_“Just Oliver, please, there’s nobody else.”_

_“You’re a liar, Lieutenant.”_

_“No. No,” you sobbed, he let go of your chin._

_“Make her talk,” he nodded to his lackeys before calling over his shoulder as he left the room, “I want details, Lieutenant, details.”_

——————————

“First off,” Boone started, spinning around in a swivel chair, “There’s me and Duke, Glitch and Libra.”

“Libra?” You asked, quirking a brow towards Duke.

“After my Grandpappy,” he nodded with a grin.

“You’re just like that pyromaniac,” you rolled your eyes before turning to Boone, “You’re gonna be tech support?”

“Nope,” Boone smiled, “I’ll be in the field, right next to you.”

“Who’s gonna be our Base?”

“Zac Norway, former FBI, goes by Big Brother,” Duke answered as Boone pulled up an image on the holotable, “he’s almost as good as Boone.”

“He’s nowhere as good as me,” Boone snapped at him, “He worked as an analyst for the FBI, but he has a knack for electronics, an eye for trouble, and he’s got good attention to detail, thus the name Big Brother.”

“Because he’s always watching,” you nodded, “who else?”

“Christopher Belov and Ari Hadar,” Boone said, pulling up two more pictures, “You’ve already met Belov, he goes by Firewire in the field.”

“Ari Hadar is former Mossad,” Duke began, pointing to his picture, “the guy is deadly.”

“He’s good at what he does, goes by Goliath,” Boone finished, sliding across the room on her chair to another computer.

“Then we’ve got Rafael Mendez—,”

“Raf’s still here?” You perked up at the name, “I thought he was going to med school.”

“Graduated a couple years ago,” Boone said, pulling up his picture, “Got bored of being in the ER, asked if he could join up again.”

“Of course we said yes,” Duke nodded at the picture, “The guy can bring people back from the dead, we call him the Resurrectionist—or Doc—for short.”

“He’s a good kid,” you mumbled, looking at his picture and realizing just how much he’d grown up since the last time you’d seen him.

“Then we’ve got Jesse Hugh and Jack Bennet,” Duke’s voice interrupted your train of thought.

“Jesse is the best pilot in our fleet,” Boone explained, bringing up a picture of a curly haired woman with dark brown eyes, “she’s called Zoom…”

“Cuz she likes to go fast?” You asked Boone nodded. 

“She’s former MI6, so she can handle herself in the field almost as well as she can handle an aircraft,” she continued, “She’ll get us in and out of Sokovia undetected.”

“Jack Bennet is former Army Rangers,” Duke continued as Boone started gathering her things, “He’s an expert strategist and goes by the name ‘Trickster’ for obvious reasons.”

“And that rounds us out,” Boone smiled, standing from her chair after disabling the holotable, “How do they look?”

“Ragtag,” you answered rubbing your temples, “But I think I can work with it.”

“Then let’s brief them,” Duke moved to stand next to Boone, “we’ve gotta move fast.”

“Lemme make a phone call first,” you said, standing from your chair and moving to the door.

Duke and Boone glanced at each other before Boone spoke, “Dugan, gather the team,” she turned from Duke as he left the room, “I’ll patch you through to Barnes, right?”

“Yeah, I promised I’d call to check on him.”

“Then let’s get him on the phone.”

——————————

He was startled by the ringing of the house phone, it jarred him off the couch where he had been lightly napping. Groaning at the persistent ringing, he covered his head with both his arms before he froze.

(F/N).

He couldn’t have jumped up faster, rolling off the couch and bounding across the room to reach for the phone before he stopped.

What if it wasn’t (F/N)? What if it was a trap?

He shook his head with a scoff and took a deep breath before pulling the phone off the hook.

“Hello?” He asked curiously.

“Barnes?”

“(F/N)?” He sighed with relief, “How was the trip?”

“Stressful,” (F/N) replied, her voice sounding strained and tired over the phone, “Duke and I just barely got here.”

“How is your friend?”

“Uh…” she paused for a moment. He heard more voices in the background, she must have been at the hospital, “Not very good.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky frowned, a part of him wishing he could be there with her, “How are you holding up?”

She went quiet again.

“(F/N)?”

“Yeah, I’m here, uh—I’ve been better.”

“How long are you going to be gone?” He asked, quickly changing the subject and kicking himself, he knew she like talking about her feelings as much as he did—which was not at all.

“Just a couple days,” she sighed before a snicker escaped, “Why? You miss me already?”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled, “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“Yeah?”

“I had to deal with the Roper Twins all afternoon,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, “They were trying to get me to stash some of their moonshine.”

“And did you?”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.”

The laugh that crackled through the line brought a smile to his face. He liked it when she laughed.

“Oh! And Amma came over today,” he continued as (F/N)’s laughter faded, “She brought me a whole basket of plums, she says they’re good for the brain.”

“That’s good, Buck, I’m glad you’re doing alright.”

“It would be better if you were here,” he admitted, “I’ve been a little jumpy since you left.”

“I’ll be back soon,” she said.

“Good,” Bucky grinned before it faltered, “you promise?”

“I promise, just hang in there a little longer, I’ll be back before you know it.”

He sighed in relief, relaxing against the wall, her voice like music to his ears. She went quiet again before he heard voices on the other end.

“Look, Barnes, I gotta go,” (F/N)’s voice finally came.

“Call me if you need anything,” he cut in.

“That’s my line,” she laughed.

“Hey, doll, this goes both ways,” Bucky said, a small smile tugging at his lips, “I got your back, you got mine.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

——————————

You smiled softly as the line disconnected, leaning against the wall and shoving your phone back into your pocket as a flight squadron walked past you, talking amongst themselves and filling the hall with noise.

“Lieutenant,” Boone’s voice came gently from beside you, “they’re waiting for you.”

You nodded, “Let’s get this over with.”

She grinned, “Ya know, this is our first team up since Paris.”

“Let’s not have a repeat of that disaster,” you groaned.

“Ah c’mon, that was fun. We blew shit up and faked our deaths, it was a great time.”

You scoffed, “It was wasn’t it?”

“C’mon, they’re waiting for you.”

As Boone led you down the hall, the sounds of chatter grew louder and louder, as you rounded the corner, Duke appeared in front of the door.

“You ready?” He asked, patting you on the shoulder with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you answered with a shudder, straightening your jacket and smoothing back your hair.

“We’ve got your back,” Boone said, placing her hand on the palm scanner,

“No matter what,” Duke nodded as the doors slid open and he turned to the room, “Officer on deck.”

The room was silenced immediately save for the sound of chairs almost tipping over as the group stood at attention.

“Operatives,” Boone began stepping into the room after Duke, “May I introduce First Lieutenant (F/N) (L/N), part of the original Alpha Team and the Ghost of Aftermath.”

A surge of adrenaline shot through your veins as you stepped into the room, a sudden confidence flowed through you as you took in the group in front of you.

“At ease,” you spoke steadily, placing your hands behind your back with a smirk as the group looked up at you in curiosity, “I’m told you’re the best of the best.”

The group looked around at each other with small smiles.

“Yo girl, we ain’t nothing compared to you,” Raf’s familiar voice piped up.

“You got something on your nose, Mendez,” a British accent came, not missing a beat.

“It’s shit, is it not?” Belov’s voice cut through.

“Yes, because Rafael is a kiss ass,” the man you assumed was Ari said through half-lidded eyes.

“Ohhhh,” came another voice from the end of the table, “I get it now.”

“Jesus, Zac,” a groan came from the opposite end of the table, “you’re an idiot.”

“Shut up, Bennet.”

“Holy shit,” you whispered to Boone as you tried to keep people straight, “these are children.”

“Exactly why we need you,” Duke said in your other ear as Boone giggled and the chatter at the table began to grow.

“They don’t exactly get along,” Boone flinched at your glare as the table began getting rowdier and the operatives forgot that you were there.

“Hey!” You snapped, your eyes flicking over the table as it silenced again, “Congratulations on making it through med school, Raf, I thought they’d kick you out after taking one look at you.”

“Very funny, (F/N),” he rolled his eyes. 

You chuckled, “As I was saying—.”

You were cut off by a series of furious warning beeps coming from a computer terminal in the corner.

“Uh oh…” Boone muttered as Belov hurtled across the room towards the computer, “What is it?”

“Not good, Беда, there’s another signal. It’s stronger this time.”

“Gear up,” you said before anything could come out of Boone’s mouth. The operatives glanced up at you as you stepped forward and leaned across the table, “we’re moving out in thirty minutes, we’ll brief on the way. Move out.”

“You heard the Lieutenant,” Duke bellowed, “Move out. Let’s go.”

——————————

“Do you feel that?” She asked, looking out into the night sky. Her brother was by her side in an instant.

“What?”

“Something’s coming,” she spoke softly, eyes glazing over ever so slightly.

“You’re sure?” He said, looking from her to the sky, then to the forest before disappearing into the trees in a blue streak.

He was back by her side a few seconds later, “There’s nothing out there, maybe it’s just effects from today’s tests?”

“No. No,” she muttered, eyes glowing red for a moment before they returned to their normal blue-green, “Something’s coming and it’s powerful and it’s dark and it’s dangerous.”

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad ya made it! Lemme know what y'all think!
> 
> <3 Darke


End file.
